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23 RANDOM PARAGRAPHS FROM NAKED LUNCH

Naked Lunch is a novel by American writer William S. Burroughs, originally published in 1959. The book is structured as a series of loosely connected vignettes. Burroughs stated that the chapters are intended to be read in any order. wikipedia

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WSB reads 23 random sentences from Naked Lunch

1 Carl ran into a park and found an empty bench be-side a bronze faun with cymbals.

2 We were in the cab heading North. Nick was talking in his Bat, dead voice.

3 The bum boys fall back in utter confusion to the brink of the Soviet network where Cossacks hang partisans to the wild wail of bagpipes and the boys march up Fifth Avenue to be met by Jimmy Walkover with the keys to The Kingdom and no strings attached carry them loose in your pocket….

4 “Stand up, Gertie, and show respect for the local gooks.”

5 “No good junky cunt hang up her unborn child…. Women are no good, kid.”

6 and crushed bed bugs

7 Frantic queen trying to claw sport jacket off depart-ing boy.

8 She puts on a record, metallic cocaine be-bop. She greases the dingus, shoves the boy’s legs over his head and works it up his ass with a series of corkscrew movements of her fluid hips. She moves in a slow circle, revolving on the axis of the shaft. She rubs her hard nipples across his chest. She kisses him on neck and chin and eyes. He runs his hands down her back to her buttocks, pulling her into his ass. She revolves faster, faster. His body jerks and writhes in convulsive spasms. “Hurry up, please,” she says. “The milk is getting cold.” He does not hear. She presses her mouth against his. Their faces run together. His sperm hits her breast with light, hot licks.

9 High mountain flutes, jazz and bebop, one-stringed Mongol instruments, gypsy xylophones, African drums, Arab bagpipes…

10 And I don’t know what I am doing there nor who I am. I decide to play it cool and maybe I will get the orientation before the Owner shows…. So instead of yelling “Where Am I?” cool it and look around and you will find out approximately…. You were not there for The Beginning. You will not be there for The End…. Your knowledge of what is going on can only be superficial and relative…. What do I know of this yellow blighted young junky face subsisting on raw opium? I tried to tell him: “Some morning you will wake up with your liver in your lap” and how to process raw opium so it is not plain poison. But his eyes glaze over and he don’t want to know. Junkies are like that most of them they don’t want to know… and you can’t tell them anything…. A smoker doesn’t want to know anything but smoke…. And a heroin junky same way…. Strictly the spike and any other route is Farina….

11 “Sure I can.”

12 Carl could not see the sanitarium owing to a false front of green stucco topped by an intricate neon sign dead and sinister against the sky, waiting for darkness. The sanitarium was evidently built on a great limestone promontory, over which flowering trees and vine tendrils broke in waves. The smell of flowers was heavy in the air.

13 “The piles of an aged mother shriek out raw and bleeding for the Black Shit…. Doc, suppose it was your mother, rimmed by resident leaches, squirming around so nasty…. De-active that pelvis, mom, you disgust me already”

14 Ignoring the K.Y., he ejaculated into the jar, a cold brutal fuck of the nurse standing her up against a glass brick wall. “Old Glass Cunt,” he sneered, and saw a cunt full of colored glass splinters under the Northern Lights.

15 When he moved an effluvia of mold drifted out of his clothes, a musty smell of deserted locker rooms. He studied his nails with phosphorescent intensity.

16 Lee’s eyes moved in the substance of his face… a little, cold, grey Hick…. “Clean it up,” he said. “Enough dirt in here now.”

17 served with a piquant sauce of rotten egg yolks

18 Gains and Lee burned down the Republic of Panama from David to Darien on paregoric…. They Hew apart with a shlupping sound…. Junkies tend to run together into one body…. You have to be careful especially in hot places…. Gains back to Mexico City…. Desperate skeleton grin of chronic junk lack glazed over with codeine and goof balls… cigarette holes in his bathrobe… coffee stains on the floor… smoky kerosene stove… rusty orange flame…

19 “What Are Yon Doing Here? Who Are You?”

20 “Man will do anything for publicity….”

21 “I’ll deliver all right. Believe me I appreciate this.”

22 “That’s in rather bad taste, old boy…. Frankly I wish I had never involved myself in this uh matter. That bloody grease has too much carbolic in it. I was down to customs one day last week. Stuck a broom handle into a drum of it, and the grease ate the end off straight away. Besides, the stink is enough to knock a man on his bloody ass. You should take a walk down by the port.”

23 “The bartender looks up from his racing form. ‘Yeah. And theirs will be a painful doom.’