e says "last ones" but I know it ain't. Last time he says "last
ones" there was eight more and we were here 'til two-thirty in the
Mister Franky says it like he's some fucking coach--rubs his hands
together (you'd think he's the one with hands all chapped from the
water) and smiles at us. Like we've been in some fucking game on the
same team all night. Like hell. With all his goddamn orders telling us
to hurry it--as if more dishes can get washed than we got hands at a
time. And then, the way it all ends up some game in his head. All the
ugly shit he talks it up to something fun.
Same litter as that girl Feebee I went with. Should have known with
a name like Feebee. She'd see crap and call it gold. Like that time we
was walking from the movies and she sees the smoke coming from the
sewer, and says "it's a beautiful cloud of thinning steam." She thought
she's smart for that. But I looked at that dirty smoke, the way it
crawls out of the ground like it wants to steal something and there
ain't nothing cloud about it. Clouds are way up out of reach and they
come by looking soft and like all sorts of things. This smoke comes from
underneath and it don't look like anything that's got any good in it.
There ain't no bit of truth in "last ones."
First published: August 1999