"The next day a nurse came out and got me and helped me onto a rolling platform. I was still vomiting up blood and was quite weak. She rolled me onto the elevator.
The technician got behind his machine. They poked a point into my belly and told me to stand there. I felt very weak.
'I'm too weak to stand up,' I said.
'Just stand there,' said the technician.
'I don't think I can,' I said.
I felt myself slowly beginning to fall over backwards.
'I'm falling,' I said.
'Hold still,' said the nurse.
I fell over backwards. I felt as if I were made of rubber. There was no feeling when I hit the floor."
--from The Most Beautiful Woman in Town & Other Stories
How he kept at gainful employment, of the lowest order, with the most unappealing sorts of people, for as long as he did rather than falling into a life of selling drugs or burglary or check kiting I'll never understand.
But spare me 90 to 95 percent of the poetry. Don't need the smut either, Hank being a regular contributor to the discontinued L.A. serial Open Pus*y, among other eminent journals.
Photo © 1980 Pete Rozycki. All rights under copyright reserved.
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