L’accouchement

oui, j’aimerais bien aller dans les Caraïbes, en Nouvelle-Orléans, Jamaïque, Tahiti, Cuba – ou en Inde ? / en Inde, ça baise moins / au Brésil alors? / ah, ouais !!! / sinon, plus près, genre en Croatie, Slovénie, etc., non ? tu connais par là ? / non, c’est plus sad, mais, peut-être, oui, avec toi... / je t’enverrais bien un texte de William Burroughs... une page... une histoire un peu pédé (pédée ?)… mais un peu plus sad que gay, alors, je ne sais pas... / ah, si... / faut que je le recopie, alors plus tard... je vais faire un travail besogneux pour toi, de copiste / sucer ta maman ? / mais c’est pas possible, t’es pédé... tu comprends ? non, mais allez, je t’embête, je sais que t’es pas pédé, va... sinon je suis avec des femmes qui racontent leur accouchement, là... et je te parle, on est un peu entre hommes, nous deux, là, mais je dois partir travailler...

As a young kid Audrey Carsons wanted to be writer because writers were rich and famous. (...) His first literary exercise was called The Autobiography of a Wolf. People laughed and said : « You mean the biography of a wolf. » No he meant the auto biography of a wolf and here is the autobiographical wolf and his wolf mate Jerry the red-haired wolf in a cool limestone cave licking the sheep blood off each other they are covered with it from head to foot it’s been a great night with the sheep and they laughed at those stupid ranchers and often carried poisoned meat for miles in their jaws and flip it into ranch yards to kill the yapping yellow-toothed woldhounds. As the sun rises they huddle against each other and fall asleep with contented belches.
The idyl ends. Jerry falls to a bounty hunter’s bullet. Saddened by the loss of his wolf mate and weakened by distemper Audrey is run down and eaten by a grizzly bear. (...) Audrey takes off his wolf suit and works in a collective farm. There he is sloshed on a tractor singing « Ochi Chorniya. » Better he should have died with his wolf mate from a bounty hunter's bullet. W.S.B.