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Don’t pick at that Geryon you’ll get it infected. Just leave it alone and let it heal, said his mother rhinestoning past on her way to the door. She had all her breasts on this evening.
Up on the overpass the night was wide open and blowing headlights like a sea. He stood against the wind and let it peel him clean.
Like the terrestrial crust of the earth which is proportionately ten times thinner than an eggshell, the skin of the soul is a miracle of mutual pressures.
They say the reason for all these blocks and rubble on top is strains produced when the glass chills so rapidly. She made a little sound. Reminds me of my marriage.
He forgot for a moment that he was a brokenheart then he remembered. Sick lurch downward to Geryon trapped in his own bad apple. Each morning a shock to return to the cut soul.
Freedom is what I want for you Geryon we’re true friends you know that’s why I want you to be free. Don’t want to be free want to be with you. Beaten but alert Geryon organized all his inside force to suppress this remark.
As the aeroplane moved over the frozen white flatland of the clouds Geryon left his life behind like a weak season.
The cart had not moved. He thought about harpoons. Does a man with a harpoon go hungry? Even a harpoon made of a jawbone could hit the cart from here.
What is mortality after all but divine doubt flashing over us?
I am a philosopher of sandwiches, he decided. Things good on the inside.
It was a typical tango song and she had the throat full of needles you need to sing it. Tangos are terrible— Your heart or my death!—and they all sound the same.
Yet Geryon did not want to become one of those people who think of nothing but their stores of pain.
What Geryon was thinking Herakles never asked. In the space between them developed a dangerous cloud. Geryon knew he must not go back into the cloud. Desire is no light thing.
Herakles wipes tears from Geryon’s face with one hand. Can’t you ever just fuck and not think? Herakles gets out of bed and goes into the bathroom.
It is a photograph of the future, thought Geryon months later when he was standing in his darkroom looking down at the acid bath and watching likeness come groping out of the bones.
