Along the Mexican Road
((STEP the men, dreaming hulks, 
deeply enclosed in the STEP seed pod of prison,
missing the STEP glare of girls in the youth thicket
or Lucifer's candle. STEP
Their chewing ran out.
Chewy hearts. STEP
And in the dark the herd begins to fondle
messages after all.))

Trash floats the bushy hills.
As I walk along the Mexican road
the wizards groan like trucks  
& flowers thrust the fragrant skin
of hillsides up.

I'm looking for Fuck 
him, deprivation king. He really was out to get me.
I'm looking for my interests!

Burroughs' discipline of Do Easy consisted of cleaning writing & shitting. 
This replaced his disheartening attempts at meditation. I find, due to 
consequences of certain prior methods & beliefs (...mysterious rattles in my barrels...) 
that I must speak directly to the organ:

It's Friday and we had sex last night and she is annoyed I made 
so much noise. 
Ate 3 cashews. Reese gave them to me.
Tonight---a beautiful night of lights & thrills & good eats, and still 
I'm making up revenge scripts.

camille roy