Nova Express by William S. Burroughs Page B

a bit—No good at this rate—Watch the waves and long counts—No use moving out—Try one if you want to—Right back to the track, Jack—Vampires is no good all possessed by overwhelming Minraud girl—All dies in ­convulsions—Don’t go to Paris—Venusian front—On child track screaming without a body—Still quite definite and vulnerable organisms—Nova signature in scar tissue—Purpose of “assassination” back to a size like that—Her is there precisely to kill—Fast their mind waves and attempts to switch the ­package—Know the answer?: Arsenic two years: Goofball bum in 1910 ­Panama—They’ll do it every time—The young man dropped Time on us with all the Gods of Life—Giggles canal talk from the sewage drifting round the gallows turning ­cartwheels—Groveled in visits of a special kind—Know the answer?: Arsenic two years:: Operation completed—WE are blood arsenic and bleeding gums—
    â€œAre you sure they are not for protection or perhaps too quick?”
    â€œQuite sure—Nothing here but to borrow your body for a special purpose”:: (“Excellent—Proceed to the ice”)
    He dies many years ago—Screen went dead—The smell of gasoline filled straw hat and silk scarf—Won’t be much left—Have to move fast—Wouldn’t know his name—No use of them better than they are—You want to?—Right back to the track, Jack—The Controller at the exits—
    WIND HAND TO THE HILT
    White sat quietly beaming “humanity’s condition”—Wise Radio Doctor started putting welfare officers in his portable—The Effects Boys to see if they can do any locks over the Chinese—Told me to sit down—Gave me Panorama Comfortable and then said:
    â€œWell? Anything to go by? What are we going to do?”
    What weighted the program down was refusal to leave—
    â€œWell what are you going to do? Perhaps alone?”
    â€œYou’d like to do half of it for me would you?”
    He slung me out and Worth and Vicky talked usefully about that was that—Maybe I’ve met Two Of A Kind—They both started share of these people—Vicky especially sounded him—It wasn’t what he had—You know is why?—What they are meant to do is all?—Going to get out of it?—An interview with Modigliani obvious usually sooner than later—I’ve seen a lot of these old men you visit on a P&O—You know sixty seventy years east voyage—Do you see yourself ending up in Cathay?—Trying to pinch suitcase like that you’ll end up buying the deluxe straight—The job will be there—No cleaner—
    If you or any of your pals foretold you were all spirits curtains for them—And trouble for me—Globe is self you understand until I die—Why do they make soldiers out of “Mr. Martin?”—Wind hand to the hilt as it is—work we have to do and the way the flakes fall—Be trouble in store for me every time—For him always been and always will be wounded galaxies—We intersect in a strange and crazy bio advance—On the night shift working with blind—End getting to know whose reports are now ended—These our rotten guts and aching spine accounts—
    One more chance he said touching circumstance—Have you still—Come back to the Spanish bait its curtains under his ­blotter—The square fact is many spirits it’s curtains for them—Fed up you understand until I die—No wish to see The Home Secretary “Mr. Martin—”
    Wind hand to the hilt—work we have to do and way got the job—Jobbies would like to strike on night shift working the end of hanging—All good thing come to answer Mr. Of The Account screaming for a respectable price—What might be called in air lying about wholesale— Belt Her