On the Makaloa Mat LondonJack Published bbaagchx

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crowded Old Town streetsdrawn to noisy bars like a moth to light. Walt and PJ have refined my
nocturnal habits to an art. Walt returns to the rooming house firstat twilight because his silver
jewelry business in Mallory Square grinds to a halt after dark. We open bottles of beer and wait for
PJ. Then out we gobar to barusually ending up at Sloppy Joe's. We are becoming inseparable. I
hope the two of them will always be inseparable. Their love no longer seems out of the ordinary to
me. Nothing doesexcept the death I see.
Men emaciated and wantheir eyes windows through which I see tormented souls. AIDS is a
holocaust consuming the offerings of this small island. Odd I should feel at home with the exiled
and the dying. I may be survived by all of them. When I lie awake at night listening to the whirring
of the window fan I'm seized by images of how it will happen.
Every time I hear a telephone ringI remember. Every time I hear someone walking behind meI
turn around. At night I look in my closetbehind the curtain and under my bedthen prop a chair in
front of the door.
Dear GodI don't want to go home.
Beryl
September 30
KEY WEST
Dear M
Yesterday at Louie'sBrent came out [link widoczny dla zalogowanych]yilai:
[link widoczny dla zalogowanych]

On the Makaloa Mat LondonJack Published bbaafifg