@@@@@"Can I maybe expect your next call to begin
@@@@@"Can
I maybe expect your next call to begin 'I just
evacuated my bowels'?"
"Don't make light of thisMy head has ached ever
since I woke up on the dining room floor after
shooting myselfSometimes it's just background
noise and sometimes it rings like New Year's Eve
in hell, but it always achesAnd then, half an
hour ago, it just quitI was making myself a cup
of coffee and it quitI couldn't believe itAt
first I thought I was deadI've been walking
around on eggshells, waiting for it to come back
and really wallop me with Maxwell's Silver Hammer,
and it hasn't
"Lennon-McCartney," I saidAnd don't tell
me I'm wrong on that one
He didn't tell me anything
But I could hear him breathingThen, at last, he
said: "Did you do something, Edgar? Tell Wireman
I thought about telling him I hadn't done a damn
thingThen I considered him checking his X-ray
folder and finding one was goneI also considered
469
my sandwich, wounded but far from dead"What
about your vision? Any change there?"
"Nope, the left lamp is still outAnd according
to Principe, it ain't coming backBut hadn't part of me known the job wasn't
done? This morning's diddling with Sharpie and
Cardboard had been nothing like the previous
night's full-blown orgasmI didn't
want to do anything more today but sit and stare
at the GulfWatch the sun go down in the caldo
largo without painting the fucking thingOnly
this was Wireman
"You still there, muchacho?"
"Yes," I said"Can you get Annmarie Whistler for
a few hours later today?"
"Why? What for?"
"So you can sit for your portrait," I said"If
your eye's still out, I guess I need the actual
Wirem