The Iow Review Volume 15 Issue 3 Fll Article 23 1985 Pilgrims' Progress Rlph Lombregli Follow this nd dditionl works t: http://ir.uiow.edu/iowreview Prt of Cretive Writing Commons Recommended Cittion Lombregli, Rlph. "Pilgrims' Progress." The Iow Review 15.3 (1985): 78-92. Web. Avilble t: https://doi.org/10.17077/0021-065x.3268 This Contents is brought you for free nd open ccess Iow Reserch Online. It hs been ccepted for inclusion in The Iow Review n uthorized dministrr of Iow Reserch Online. For more informtion, plese contct lib-ir@uiow.edu.
Pilgrims' Progress Rlph Lomhregli ONCE WE WERE FEELING good, relly good. There ws no need lign ourselves with people who were doing bd things. Men in brown sttion wgons ment us. nothing We lerned our lessons s we went long, everything in its own time. Wht we didn't know didn't frighten us, it mde us lugh. We hdn't yet herd of men in crimson berets. We tlked lot, tht ws prt of it?complex propositions with mny corol lries tripped off our ngues. We were invited think, so we thought t omnivorously, rndom, bout nything. It ws wonderful time. Bck in those we dys would lie bout in bright, open spces sur rounded pottery nd ferns nd flowers, listening intently your voice on? coming through us equipment speking of wves nd fith, us telling wht do. Then your voice fded wy, replced imge of two mgnificent brests on video monir. There re y now, on flickering screen. Mgnificent, but not your voice. The equipment still brings in music, but it's different music now. On hed of mn trotting longside brown sttion wgon: crimson beret. Worn, it seems us, s remrkble innovtion in bd fith. The mn in crimson beret sks questions, mkes notes, fiddles with microphone in his crimson bow tie. Sometimes his equipment in terferes with our now equipment; frequently, tht we mention it. He could hve selected nice gry fedor, benie mrked with yer he ok his even n degree; Austrlin bush ht would look better. Indeed, we would like report tht we hd here mn in Austrlin bush ht, trmping through bush beside mn in brown sttion wgon, but we don't?we hve mn in crimson beret, professor of determinism. We wonder how mn in crimson beret got here, so fr from nything concerning him, dit for mn in brown sttion wgon, nd why y hve been visited upon us. It's true y rrived very dy your voice fded wy, coincidence we hve sked poet meditte upon. The mn in crimson beret mintins it's no coincidence t ll. All se recent events re relted, he sys, ech of m cused ors, nd his reserch will ber this out. 78 University of Iow is collborting with JSTOR digitize, preserve, nd extend ccess The Iow Review www.jsr.org
But your voice ld us not believe in things like tht. We wonder wht mn in crimson beret is relly fter with his methodology nd his time-motion study of mn in brown sttion wgon. He mkes us think of gret suffering cused smll minds obsessed with things tht don't mtter, minds insensible mening of wves. The mn in brown sttion wgon doesn't understnd questions posed mn in crimson beret, but he plys long nd nswers m nywy. On shiny surfce of brown sttion wgon: ptin of bd fith. When prticles of sound begn lep wy from your voice, we thought: behvior of se prticles signifies muttion of your voice closely relted voice-isope; it does not signify fizzling-out of your voice. We hd determined hlf-life of your voice be 1.5 billion yers. Enough time for nyone, we thought. Time en enough close within monkey-grip of mind hrd little crux of tech ings of your voice. Now we look t oscilloscopes nd weep like chil dren over our stcks of fllcious clcultions. Your voice is gone. It ws holding everything ger. Keeping fith. The pirnh fish re problemticl. It would be difficult spek up for m. re so They eger, nd egerness oftht sort is lmost lwys in bd fith. One might spek up for pirnh nd be obliged next dy mke retrction. But your voice sid, There is much left lern. Get close In quixotic pirnh. greenish light thrown off tnk, we stnd nd ponder se mysterious fish. Wht could your voice hve ment? The pirnh snp t busively glss of tnk, n wy through bright green wter. y drt jelously The poet hs enrolled s specil student in University, study wve mechnics. We re using lst of money py his expenses, on condition tht he ddress himself our once problems he lerns something. We cn more imgine promising prospects, but poet's ll we've got. We've mnged get him intrigued ide of n empir icl science founded upon very mbiguity of its unknowble subject, elementl on one mtter?being occsion on prticle, nor wve. At micro-botm of everything is wonderful root uncertinty not yet pprecited determinists out in mcro-world. our Justifying in stinctive contempt for everything y represent. 79
I sensed it ll while, poet sys himself, slpping his thigh, thinking of new? friends he will hve in physics deprtment vitl young grdute students nd professors still venerble fter decdes of electron bombrdment. Shopping for his textbooks, poet composes his letter Den, proposing himself for physics fellowship. "Pursue mtter bck fr enough," writes poet, "nd poof!? grounds for stndrd pprisl of mteril relity vnish. Even swift mcro kick from Dr. Johnson's boot hs no substnce in microrelity. In mtter hounding down its secret hert, mterilism unties its own knot. A world of cn never tngible things commnd our fith." Replying, Den wonders, "If re were only erel where would you ll be, postulnts nd novices?" Ren?, ct, hs shown mrked interest in pirnh fish, coupled, we feel sure, with his cusmry nivete. Rene's quotidin reltions with world re n inspirtion for ll of us, s re steeped y in plin, timeless good fith. He cnnot see in pirnh unwitting embodi ment of nsty strin in universe. They cn't help it, but se fish re rel busers. They tke more thn y need, y tke more thn y wnt. They tke until everybody feels sick bout everything nd n y tke some more. We cution Ren? ginst ny involvement with pirnh. The poet's courtship of Ann hs occsioned generl merriment. In se dys peppered with portent, ny bid for Ann's hert is welcome diversion. The ir buzzes with news of it?everyone hs seen or herd something. The poet is generlly thought be wrong mn for Ann, nd his presenttion of himself hs won him no new supporters. Dily he instlls himself beneth her blcony, his pssion bruited in her high win dow loud love music from n AM/FM/cssette unit. There re those who feel sorrow for poet, s obliged he is plce unwieldy prcel of his ffections upon Ann's doorstep ogled ll rest of us, nd re re those pitying Ann who must refuse or delivery lger else ccept tht which is nywy o lrge nd misshpen go through her door without being broken. Nomi, for one, expresses disgust tht this is wht women must still contend with: inept poets full of vgue desire. 80
But we relly, know Ann better thn tht. It would suit her fine dlly for time with poet, get grsp of his syntx. In truth, dllince of Ann is nerly ctegory of fith for us, known quntity in uncertin flux. But poet is not mn for it. He is soft, timorous puff of thing. He would burn fst nd bright rushing through hedy tmosphere of Ann. Tonight, drem feturing scorching desert sequence. There is huge pyrmid, on one fce of which is etched legend BAD FAITH. On or fce GOOD FAITH is inscribed. The pyrmid hs only two fces, which does not seem strnge. Two long drivewys led up pyr mid, originting from soust nd southwest nd t ending two gr ge doors mounted t botm of ech fce. Our job is trick mn in brown sttion wgon in driving in BAD FAITH side of pyrmid, thus declring nture of his filthy business. Anything goes, except for chnging signs which would be in bd fith nd besides would tke o long becuse here he comes. The mn in crimson beret chrges tht we intended from very beginning only co-opt pirnh, nd tht co-opttion ctegoriclly tkes plce in bsence of good fith. A nuseting smugness comes over his fce when he mkes se ccustions. There is, in fct, prticle of truth in wht noisome meddler sys. Wht we were lwys fter ws energy of pirnh, which is bsiclly good nturl energy with bd vibrtionl on ptin it. Just how bd we lter found out. But our in tentions were never or thn work with pirnh until we under sod prdox of nturl goodness crusted over bdness. Until we could n improvise lignment with ir quixotic ntures. But you didn't know how, sys mn in crimson beret, you didn't think it through, you hd no pln. Not hving pln doesn't sound like good fith me, he sys. Well, birds must be incomprehensible snkes, o, when y fly. To reiterte: we ct in good fith, it is not possible tht we ct orwise. Our ctions re informed root perception of trnsubstntil simult neity of things, instilled in us your voice. We don't bet ginst futures, we let m be. Premedittion just mkes us dizzy. It's not in us do it. Every desire nd inclintion turned out like pocket nd poked through 81
for effects nd results.. who. could smch such niggrdliness? But out in mcro-sequentil spce men occupied in crimson berets, cusl is king. They believe in it, nd if you believe in something it's cse, we've lerned tht. Sometimes music confuses us. It's o chotic, o loud, it comes on t wrong time. It mybe tht we're in mood for soft structures nd we get insted this very intense, insistent stuff t loud levels. It behooves us try pprecite whtever comes on, but prt of it is knowing when it's just not hppening. The rdio is not here rture us. Wht bd dy it ws, we dy fell in with burly morist, nd pednt, nd se intrctble fish. There it is? corrosive irony of ques tionble llinces. So t first we just mde up whole rft of new un certinty jokes nd went on our merry wy. Ours, fter ll, ws simple condition of hving greter mgic. Good fith mde our herts light nd cler, we were ferless nd nywy from nor relm. Good fith us buoyed up. We hd been in green open spce where re ws wter, nd with one er we herkened generl modultions of voice which untiljust tht morning hd been us. speking We hd been flot ing in little pool fr wy from min strem nd we didn't question unusul we buoyncy enjoyed re, listening voice which while we were in wter ws in wter nd when we were in ir ws in ir. We were invincible. We were illicit brs in bck eddy guided voice whose wy ws wve propgtion. Determined rockslides of worldly events tumbled one fter nor off in distnce, but in wves ll ws sweet interp?n?trtion. We were nked trespssers, but slow shutter of cuslity would never tke our picture. Anor drem. In this one we re on Quest. The object of Quest is unknown, though it is sid be golden in color or perhps silver, prob bly metllic in nture but possibly wooden. The mn in brown st tion wgon hs been sent hed s scout; rest of expedition follows on cmelbck. The mn in crimson beret hs been brought s long Quest-hisrin nd lso is s (this secret) possible scrifice occsionl rude tribe, should need rise. The mn in crimson beret wnts know wht we hve re in those wet sddlebgs. He sks us swer tht ll delings with ntive peoples will be conducted in 82
good with fith. We promise ntives. him decent cut of nything we mke on del We sp mke cmp, nd sk poet ssist Ann in wtering of cmels. An hour lter y return in compny of rude tribe. We gesture mgnnimously in direction of mn in crimson beret. The ntives seem think tht he is our king. During confusion gret brech of decorum occurs. A tribesmn begins fiddle with Ann, who fiddles bck?n even greter brech. The poet seizes tribesmn throt nd hurls him ground. The tribesmn plces kick midsection of poet. Four breches of decorum, ech lrger thn lst. Now re is nothing for it. Quickly, without wrning, entire contents of one wet re sddlebg deployed bout person of errnt tribesmn. After he is gone, his fellows?now our servnts?usher us in presence of ir Chieftin, n mible gentlemn with remrkble commnd of our lnguge. The Chieftin correctly supposes us be on Quest. After obligry shilly-shlly, he concedes tht re re no silver or on golden objects premises. However, in vult, witing our generous re two pprisl, mgnificent brests, soft in texture nd vilble s Quest-objects. A disml mon goes up from members of our crew. Tctfully, it is suggested Chieftin tht he believes two mgnificent brests be in vult. The doors of empty vult re thrown open, its flse rer wll swys in hot desert wind. On sndy floor of empty vult: ptin of tire-trcks. We offer Chieftin tpe recordings of our music in return for initition in mysteries of his fith. Lter, we wve goode wgon ntives who re scrtching on wlls of ir huts with sticks. imge of brown sttion At Symposium on Bd Fith, snfued gend even before gvel goes down. The mn in crimson beret is boycotting Symposium, nd hs denounced proceedings in telegrm chirperson. "The Symposium is founded upon flse ctegory," telegrphs mn in crimson beret. "There is no such s thing Bd Fith, only bsence of Good Fith." The depths which professionl jelousy hs brought mn in crimson beret, we ll think. A textbook exmple of Bd Fith. Nomi, chirperson, flings her ppers on roundtble nd srms out. 83
On Nomi's gend, Symposium is open with highlights of poet's work in wve mechnics, since dul nture of elementl mtter testifies so eloquently thred of Bd Fith tht runs through en tire universe. For his prt, poet hs n sml feeling bout this sudden ugly turn in ne of things. He didn't wnt open Symposium, he didn't even wnt ttend Symposium. He will never be ble get long with se people. Ann is so different, not like m. He would like go home with her right now nd never see nor Symposium. Nomi's misinterprettion of his work is tlly uncceptble, but he is no less loth liente Nomi thn endure horrible irony of n idetionl lignment with mn in crimson beret. He thinks perhps re is indeed some smll smudge of Bd Fith on very structure of img intion, else why does every little thing we conceive grow up tyrnnize us? The poet hs prepred long pper red t Symposium, in which he dumbrtes New Prosody, bsed on wvelengths. Someone hs scrtched it off gend. The crowd clls for poet nswer chrges of mn in crimson beret. The poet tkes stge. The spotlights blind him. "Once, we were feeling good," sys poet, gripping podium. "Relly good. There ws no need lign ourselves with people who were doing bd things. I sy we cn get tht feeling bck. Somehow. I guess mybe in wy I think I sort of gree with mn in crimson beret. You know, Einstein sid, 'God is subtle, but He is not simply men.' I think 'God' old Einstein ment 'dul nture,' switching bck nd forth deep down in re between prticles nd wves without ny rhyme or reson. By 'simply men' I think he ment 'in Bd Fith.' Just becuse everything is uncertin doesn't men it's bd. "Now, I know wht you're thinking. You're thinking, 'Wht bout disintegrtion of voice, sudden rrivl of two men, p pernce of brests, nd quixotic ntures of those pirnh fish gobbling up everything tht even comes ner tnk?' Well, I think old voice would hve known wht sy bout tht. And tht's wht we should be thinking bout here dy t this Symposium. Things hve gone nd gotten rel complex on us, but everything's still in Good Fith. You know wht I men. Thnk you. Thnk you very much." 84
When booing dies down, we her sound something like throty rumble of mor. It is Ann, cross lounging two chirs in loose ki mono, lughing her most erthy, knowing lugh. "Even if hd in com plete Bd Fith," she sys crowd, " good time is good time." Pen cils scrtch in concert ll over hushed udirium. "Brvo," someone clls out. The poet smrts her Ann dopt such n untenble position. Wht wound, think he my hve been merely good time. But ir is now mgiclly cler, Symposium cn begin. We hve rrived t n understnding with mn in crimson beret. We don't like him, nd he doesn't like us. It's sd but lso sweet reciprocity. The rooms of mutul re nimosity esy live in, not like strk hllwy of unrequited ttrction with bre bulb of spurned ffec tions burning. We feel bestly bout it, but mn in brown sttion wgon hs go. When he ttches himself us, he must be rebuffed. When he butnholes us, he must be given cold shoulder. He must be turned off when he comes on, but how do we tell mn in brown sttion wgon tht we feel nothing for him whtever, or, Nomi wnts dd, if we feel nything for him t ll it is simple disgust? He wnts be prt of our gng, hng with us. It cnnot be, nd his filure see tht it cnnot be is only dditionl ssurnce tht it cnnot be. But every dy he shows up. His presence does not excite us s our pres ence evidently excites him. He sys he wnts join our crew, help us keep fith, but he is completely insensitive our vibrtion. en Repeted counters with him re giving ll of us n sml senstion. We don't pre tend cre for mn in brown sttion wgon, tht would be in bd fith, nd we've dropped every hint we cn imgine. He sys we're just like mn in crimson beret, spending lot of time tlking bout ir relevnt things. But even irrelevnce is, for him, irrelevnt. The most fscinting presenttion of on Symposium Bd Fith ws certinly lecture with slide projections, "Archetypl Forms of Fith, Good nd Bd," delivered one Sylvi, of Nomi's friends from college. Summrizing current literture, Sylvi showed rchetypes of Bd Fith include: men generlly nd brown sttion wgons specificlly, pirnh fish, crimson berets, nd poets. Among best-known rche 85
types of Good Fith re found: women generlly nd brests specificlly, music, flowers, nd ntive peoples. Of specil interest ws n overview of Sylvi's personl contribution field, her work with "rbiter objects"?those things which hve been shown ct s conduits of rchetypl energy. Most often "rbiter serve s objects" permeble membrnes between stble sets of rchetypes, but frequently y function s rchetype-trnsformers, ctully convert ing one species of rchetypl energy in nor, good bd or bd good, sometimes leving formtion of energy enclves or "fith clusters." Depending upon which wy conversion is going, such "clusters" re clssified s eir or "dry" "wet." Sylvi chrcterized our present sitution s n excited equilibrium tending wrd high-energy "cluster" behvior, nd ppeled for ddi tionl funds with which crry out furr "rbiter object" investig tions. She concluded her tlk with review of only most well-verified "rbiter objects," nd properties whence y derive ir specil power. The list included: pyrmids with two grge doors (dul nture of consciousness), prticles nd wves (dul nture of mtter), rdios (recep tion of wves), nd your voice (dispersion of prticles). During stnding ovtion for Sylvi, mn in crimson beret ws seen slinking out rer guiltily through door of udirium. A glutn for symposi, he couldn't sty wy. The mn in brown sttion wgon hs tken wering crimson beret, nd effect is devstting. He is fool's fool, cipher, but his in tuitive grsp of perverse is uncnny. We were ll unnerved when first we sw him in it. More thn ny or development, this new beret cp tures essence of direction things re tking. Now brown sttion wgon runs mok in our city, its driver primping in rerview mirror. Most unsettling of ll is impct on originl mn in crimson beret, whose object of study hs become lrge, hiry simulcrum of him self. The new beret hs hurt him shrply. No mount of fith in his meth odology could hve protected him, nd rein lies filure of socil sciences. Following months of lobing nd petitioning nd legl ction Nomi nd her ctivist friends, city council hs bnned vehiculr trffic 86
on streets of our city. Downwn is pedestrin prdise. We never relized how mny people live here, nd now y ll mnge little shops. In every citizen ws dwelling tiny merchnt, frid come out with ll crs. On thoroughfres formerly ruled dedly mchines, we stroll mid renscence gentle of rts nd crfts. There must be huge secret kilns in hills where ll this pottery is fired. A pnorm of pinting, sculpture, nd belt buckles rewrds ech scn of eye. In mcrm? trusses, ferns nd flowers hng from every trffic signl. Our shopping bgs grow hevy. The blck petroleum-bsed crustcens living in our lungs retret before resurgence of helthy pink cells. In cf?s nd bistros, hppy people discuss culturl contrdictions of cpitlism. Then, in defince of every ffinity grouping, re is n instnce of bd fith, urlly presged rude ror of mor. The mn in brown sttion wgon creens on strip in his rig, his crimson beret cocked t rkish ngle. The trendy boor is wering pirnh T-shirt. Pedestrins lep like electrons on sidewlks. His cr screms fiery down boulevrd. Gret wves pound inside its rer fish tnk comprtment, wter dense with pirnh fish. He doesn't know how hndle pirnh, of, o y're crowded, becoming crzed. Torquing in powerslide t end of block, brown sttion wgon disppers from view fter sloshing from side window green blck wve of beched pirnh on sidewlk. Even wheezing ir lst re on concrete, pirnh snp t busively smrt shoes of pssers. "Alwys prdigm In his notebook, mn in crimson beret mkes entry, true ir quixotic ntures, se mzing fish re very of self-ctuliztion." At brekfst, poet reports drem in which substnce of relity ws reveled him. In drem, poet ws out wlking in green open spce when he cme upon brown sttion wgon prked gleming in sun. On lowered tilgte mn in brown sttion wgon hd erected huge electron microscope. Wering white lb cot, mn in crimson beret ws moniring bnks of meters nd oscillo scopes set up on picnic tble next cr. In plce of his eyes were undulting green wveforms of scopes, reflected in his silvered sunglsses. Tht imge in prticulr hunts poet. Then two men stepped wy from electron microscope nd in 87
vited poet look. In viewfinder he could see tht submic were prticles ctully miniscule pirnh, wves of m, rel building blocks of universe. As he wtched, poet begn perceive bsis for conceptul brekthrough in wve mechnics, resolution of ll our difficulties. It ws unbelievbly simple. The technicin in crimson beret explined tht were pirnh prticles beginning show strong bonding behvior, chieving cohesion indirectly proportionl level of lrger disintegrtion. Gesturing flickering screens, he sid, "The re piscril lignments simply stunning," nd his vivid drem voice wkened swety poet, who cnnot now remember wht ws. brekthrough We ll nod our heds nd murmur thnks for benefit of this impor tnt drem, we though hd better expecttions for brekfst thn ponder gin flvor of doom. From behind closed door of rec room, we her splshing nd generl commotion of tnk. The lndlord rrives. It seems he is perpetully rriving, or perhps he never leves. In ny event, he wnts money. As it hppens, money is no longer prt of currency we re deling with here, but we re not so fr gone s think we cn offer lndlord or prticles, wves, or even two brests, we ssuming knew where y were. It's sobering moment, s this mundne problem of money yields up sudden perception of our lrger, irreversible dilemm. Once, we were feeling good, relly good. We were impervious bd fith of lndlord's rent, brown sttion wgon, crimson beret. Then your voice fded wy, nd now we cn't turn round without com something ing home roost. The interference from cdemy nd highwy hs been in itself only minor nnoynce. Much worse is wht hs s emerged The Problem of Ourselves. We wnted work with pirnh, unlock nturl mystery of ir mteril determinism, but pirnh re, no through fult of ir own, essentilly ichthyic subscribers cusl universe of beret nd sttion wgon, nd so we hd, so on spek, put wders nd get right in re, nd once we did tht... we were in re. Stnding in foyer witing for rent, lndlord wnts know, Wht is behind tht wet door? We invite him inside hve look for himself, sensing even s we do so tht this is beginning of end. The 88
future does not feel like genuine ctegory us presented in good fith. Opening wet door for frightened lndlord, we try concentrte on nturl inevitbility of endings. At dinnertime, Ren?, ct, is missing. Throts re clered. The bcks of our hnds exmined silently. The sound of wves from or room, splshing ginst wlls of pirnh tnk. Glnces in direction of equipment, silent loudspeker nd video screen where shiny imge of two brests is undulting. Our best Bordeux unsp pered. To Ren?. In those lst dys your voice ws disrted nd strnge. It's sickening thought, but perhps you never mentioned "pirnh" t ll. "Pino," you my hve sid, or "Pndor." Though it feels like plucking t strws, we hve n plced dvertise ment for wve mechnic. we Mybe should hve done it sooner. In our own defense, time hs lost ll mening for us. The poet proves be in terested in purely oreticl issues, except where Ann is concerned, nd he shows no ptitude whtever for equipment. After ll money we've spent on his tuition, even tuning rdio is beyond him. Men while, pirnh hve eten everything in plce. Alredy ir little vestigil legs re growing in helthy pink limbs; soon y will clmber out on lnd. The newspper our contining d hs just hit streets when first pplicnt rrives. It is mn in brown sttion wgon. To be fir, his crimson beret nd bow tie look good with his shrp-cresed gry coverlls. s cn Smug be, he holds up clipped copy of our d. From doorwy his brown sttion wgon is plinly visible t prked curb, rer com prtment loded with bundled newsppers. We sy no, re hs been mistke. With wicked smile he presents his wve mechnic's certifi cte?notrized, unexpired, embossed with sel of Heisenberg Uncertinty Institute. We hve no choice but udition him. He trundles in his ger, rrnges it next sof. Even in first unclsp ing of his ol chest we perceive ssurnce born of lifetime spent with hrdwre. Looks like every wve in plce is out of whck, he sys. We gree 89
tht virtully ny wve he might choose would benefit from djustment. But work on voice, we sy. Mke voice come bck. With stub hnd he us signls relx. Selecting severl exotic instruments, he bends his tsk. We exchnge glnces of pprovl mongst ourselves s he plies deftly ols of his specil trde. Hving rel pro on working wves sends tingle through ll of us, not unlike soporific thrill of mssge. As he lbors, wvegrese soils his hnds nd fce. He seems revel in it. At intervls he sps mop his brow with his beret, smiling blnkly in our direction, up his elbows in equipment. He is mn not without his tlents, he could mke gen uine contribution, we hven't seen this side of him before. Privtely, poet expresses regret tht mn in brown sttion wgon is such n inveterte determinist, crusty member of old gurd, clinging old wys. But Ann speks up prise fortitude of supernnuted trdespeople, ir prodigious exertions nd long dys leving neir time nor strength for genteel enlightenments of ir employers. We think mn in brown sttion wgon must be getting close brekthrough re with those wves. Any moment loud, cler re port of your old fmilir voice will testify his skill. And indeed, in wit so ing intently for sound of your voice, we miss his gme entirely. Suddenly, bright video light wshes room grish blue. The mn in brown sttion wgon hs been struggling not with your dying voice but with mgnificent brests on screen! Looking up, we see tht he hs brought brests in spectculr focus. The clrity nd dimension, conur y hve! Then lscivious mn in brown sttion wgon mnipultes rdio. Furious rockbilly music erupts from loudspeker, sme loudspeker tht used convey your gentle voice. He begins lewd mountin dnce while string up t brests on screen. In trice, Ann is up nd dncing o, bumping hips, twirling round, stepping like devil with mn in brown sttion wgon. Nomi utters cry of our disgust; herts go out broken poet. We vert our eyes, noticing only n mn in crimson beret string in our through picture window, rpt. Dropping off voices, speking sleep, we cn her your voice gin, mny of your us in unison, us clling ttention, uttering pro 90
legomen rgument we hve with world. Your voices sound like rdios of mny fire engines, crypticlly ssessing sitution. Your voices sy tht brown sttion wgon will explode, wters of fish tnk will boil, mn in crimson beret will be destroyed when strongbox contining his reserch flls on him from seventh floor of his prtment building. Everything will be ll right, your voices sy, but re not y relly your voices. Then some rucous music comes on, us wking up. Tonight, big prty. A blowout, everybody invited. To celebrte nuptils of Ann nd mn in brown sttion wgon. Eight till whenever, we sy in invittions. Bring your own, re's nothing left here. The weeping poet hs been sequestered ll dy in his room, lboring pply New Wve Prosody in n epic poem which likens disintegr tion of your voice his betryl t hnds of Womn. So fr only couple of qutrins pushed out beneth his door, nd not very good. Nomi nd her friends from college hve decorted plce with n chors nd buoys nd fishing nets. The prty hs mritime me. The big bot hs been huled out of grge nd set up in living room. We ll wer bell-botm pnts nd silor shirts. The first guests rrive in brown sttion wgon decorted with ribbons nd blloons. Ann lmost n pprition in her long white gown. The mn in brown sttion wgon fully in spirit of things, scrf round his hed, ptch over n eye, gold hoop erring in his er. Look shrp, you lubbers, he sys, hugging everybody, scrtching ll women with his unshven chin. Congrtultions, lovebirds, we sy. Help yourselves rdio, nything you like. Furious rockbilly music erupts from loudspeker. Wild dncing. The mn in crimson beret shows up with his dte, svelte grdute student. I'm fscinted you young people, he sys, specificlly lengths which you will go hve good time. Prty behvior intrigues me, he sys. There's something bout big prty like this tht's, well, not entirely in good fith, if you know wht I men. Fscinting. We do our best, we sy, shouting bove music. Gld you could mke it. Put beer in refrigerr. No, not tht door, or door. 91
The wet door isn't door kitchen? he sks slyly. No, definitely not. The prty is monster, plce is jmmed. Everybody ws ble mke it. It lmost feels like good old dys, but nothing cn sp us now. At midnight, members of our crew tke up ors, jump in bot, clck ors ger for ttention. A little medley from South Pcific, we nnounce crowd, rehersed especilly for this occsion. The mn in brown sttion wgon wltzes Ann center of room. Wild cheering. The poet is crouched behind bot, witing for signl. We brek in song. Everywhere, singing nd merrymking. Tht's signl. The poet unlocks wet door, throws it open, pulls rope ttched plug on pirnh tnk, jumps in our vessel. Screming, splshing, lifebot ethics. We pddle bout on roiling wves, rrows of prdox quivering in our brests. Pirnh clinging our ors like wriggling jewels. A sntch of crimson cloth nd blck eye ptch flot up longside bot, not so re wrding s we might hve imgined. Pirnh lep in gret numbers out of wter, snp busively t brests on video screen, n swim wy nsty nd miserble. Their frustrtion our single stisfction. The prty is over. The wters grow clm, except for n re of efferves cence off in corner. We pddle over, pull bot up longside submerged loudspeker. Stem is hissing from wet equipment, nd sprks spurting. Bubbles from re speker rising ll round bot. A sound ccompnies bubbles, but we cn't mke it out. We uch one end of n or underwter speker, uch or end bot so s feel vibrtions trnsmitted through hull. Syllbles. 92