And now my Gunslinger
in his steady way deliberated
on the scene before us—Note
he said
that confusion.
I did.
What do you see
he asked.
Men fighting I answered
Is that all, he asked
Do you want the deetails
I asked
Don’t be evasive he replied
What is the principle of what
you see.
I was hard put to understand this
I tried.
The principle, I said
is leverage. Not quite
the Gunslinger rejoined,
that is the mechanism
I asked for the principle.
Yes you did, quite plainly
said I
But I am afraid I—
Never mind he said, are these
men men.
Yes I answered on the heated margin
of that general battle
Is my horse a horse? he continued
I’m on that score not sure
I said.
Your horse seemes different
from these men.
Quite right
but that’s not altogether
what I am getting at.
Here
he said, passing me the cigarette.
I think, he added
of taking you to Las Vegas.
Then you aren’t going
to Boston. Not now he
exhaled, fresh distortions
as you yourself heard
have reached my ears.
Uh-huh I managed to exhale.
Thus we sat and still
I knew not the principle
of which he spoke.
STRUM
strum
Then there was an interlude
in which the brawl before our
indented eyes went on.
Auto-destruction he breathed
and I in that time was
suspended
as if in some margin of the sea
I saw the wading flanks
of horses spread in energy
What makes?
he suddenly asked in the smoke
and turmoil, and the bullets
flying,
What makes you think
oh what makes you
that this horse sitting between us
and who has not spoken
a word
or is it that I have
from the beginning
misjudged you.
The Horse grinned at me
Oh my Gunslinger, I said
If this be true
and it must be
because I can see in this horse
the Horse described
Will it not be very inappropriate
that Lil see this same Horse
in her establishment?
What of the girls?
Why, untaught alien
do you think I have arranged
this mass collision, standard in its design
you see raging not 15 feet away
but to distract the vision
of that spinning crystal?
She seemed nice enough to me
I said.
You have not lived 2000
and more years and as he
disengaged his eyes from mine
he said And speaking of said
Lady here, she, comes—
My god, Slinger, she said
I am at your service,
replied the Gunslinger.
Oh knock that off!
I’ve got a Business to tend to
and the smoke in this corner
is blindin besides, say
haven’t I met that Horse
before? The Horse
rose from his chair and
tipped his stetson XX
Hello Lil, it’s been a long time
here have a seat,
we’ve got a lot to talk
about, Slow down
the Gunslinger said and
that was the only time
I ever heard anybody speak
obliquely to the Horse.
Thus sat the four of us
at last a company it seemed
and the Bombed Horse took off his stetson
XX, and drew on the table
our future course.
Whispered, as I did, aside
to the Gunslinger, Who, finally,
is this gaudy Lil? Lil,
I didn’t expect to see
here—we were in Smyrna
together, now called Izmir
when they burned the place
Down, we were
Very young then
I might add. Does that
satisfy you?
Yes I answered.
And then
the Oblique Horse
having waited patiently
for the course of that aside
to run
asked Have you finished.
It occurred to me
I might not readily
Answer a Horse
but I was discouraged,
in whatever question
I might have felt,
when the Gunslinger
on my arm put
the pressure of his leatherbound
fingers and gave me
a look
in the aftermath of those bullets
and that dispersing smoke
which said, Quietly.
STRUM, strum
Then sat we mid aftermath
and those unruly customers in Lil’s
cabaret and the Plugged In Horse
covered the table
with his elaborate plans
and as he planned he rolled
immense bombers
from the endless Tampico
in his saddle bags.
What’s happened to my black ace
the Horse inquired
scraping his chair, reaching
under the table,
smiling, passing at the same time
his bomber without limit to me.
But, I,
don’t recognize
this size,
it is, beyond, me.
No, mortal, that size is beyond your conception
Smoke. Don’t describe yourself.
That’s right, referee, the Horse
thinks he’s makin telescopes
Lil observed
but one often makes a remark
and only later sees how true it is!
Jast pass it! Hey Slinger!
Play some music.
Right, breathed the Gunslinger
and he looped toward the juke then,
in a trajectory of exquisite proportion
a half dollar which dropped home
as the .44 presented itself in the proximity
of his hand and interrogated the machine
A28, Joe Turner Early in the Mornin’
came out and lay on the turntable
His inquisitive .44 repeated the question
and B13 clicked
Lightnin’ Hopkins Happy Blues for John Glenn,
and so on
the terse trajectories of silver then
the punctuations of his absolute .44
without even pushing his sombrero off his eyes
Gawddamit Slinger! there you go
wreckin my Wurlitzer again
sittin there
in that tipped back chair,
can’t you go over to the machine
and put the money in and push
the button like a normal bein?
We’re at the Very beginning of logic
around here
so them things cost money
and besides that Slinger, some
of these investors
is gettin edgy
since this Stoned Horse come in
they’re talkin bout closin my place
Down
scarin my girls with hostyle talk.
My bartender gettin tighter
every time you do some shit
like that.
Don’t bring me down Lil,
we’ll be out of here by and by.
Yea Lil, drop it
the Stoned Horse said.
We’d all rather be there
than talk about it.
It’s all right Lil, I
said. Oh refugee
you talk like a natural
mortal, take your hand
off my knee
I’ve got other things to do
now.
STRUM
Just then a Drifter carrying
a divine guitar
passed by our table and the guise
inlaid around the string cut hole
pulsated as do
stars in the ring
of a clear night
Hi! Digger
the drifting guitarist greeted
the Bombed Horse
who was in his saddle bags
rummaging
Heidigger? I asked
the Xtian statistician
is that who you are?
Are you trying
to “describe” me, boy?
No, no, I hastened to add.
And by the way boy
if there’s any addin
to do around here
I’ll do it, that’s my stick
comprende?
Where’s my dark ace?
Into the cord of that question
a stranger turned his brilliantined head
pulled open his fabrikoid coat
and Said
What’s your business
with Any dark ace!
The scene
became a bas-relief
as the length of the bar froze
arms and legs, belts and buckles caught
drink stilled in mid-air
Yea! You! You’re a horse
aincha? I mean you!
and, “looking around”, Horseface!
strum
The Stoned Horse said Slowly
not looking up
from his rolling and planning
Stranger you got a pliable lip
you might get yourself described
if you stay on.
Come on!
Who’s the horse, I mean who’s
horse is that, we can’t have
No Horse! in here.
It ain’t proper
and I think I’m gonna
put a halter on you!
Uh uh, the Gunslinger breathed.
Anybody know the muthafucka
the Stoned Horse inquired
of the general air.
Hey, hear that the stranger gasped
that’s even a negra horse!
Maybe so, maybe not
the Gunslinger inhaled
but stranger you got an Attitude
a mile long
as his chair dropped forward
all four legs on the floor
and as the disputational .44
occurred in his hand and spun there
in that warp of relativity one sees
in the backward turning spokes
of a buckboard,
then came suddenly
to rest, the barrel utterly justified
with a line pointing
to the neighborhood of infinity.
The room froze harder.
Shit,
Slinger, Lil noticed, You’ve pointed
your .44 straight
out of town.
I keep tellin you
not to be so goddamn fancy
now that amacher’s
got the drop on you!
Not so, Lil!
the Slinger observed.
Your vulgarity is flawless
but you are the slave
of appearances—
this Stockholder will find
that his gun cannot speak
he’ll find
that he has been Described
Strum
the greenhorn pulled
the trigger and his store-bought iron
coughed out some cheap powder,
and then changed its mind,
muttering about having
been up too late last night.
Its embarrassed handler
looked, one eye wandering,
into the barrel
and then reholstered it and
stood there.
strum
The total .44
recurred in the Slinger’s hand
and spun there
then came home like a sharp knock
and the intruder was described—
a plain, unassorted white citizen.
You can go now,
the Turned On Horse said.
That investor’d make
a good janitor Lil observed,
if I was gonna keep this place
I’d hire him.
What does the foregoing mean?
I asked. Mean?
my Gunslinger laughed
Mean?
Questioner, you got some strange
obsessions, you want to know
what something means after you’ve
seen it, after you’ve been there
or were you out during
That time? No.
And you want some reason.
How fast are you
by the way? No local offense
asking that is there?
No.
I like you mi nuevo amigo
for a mortal you’re exceptional
How fast are you?
Oh, average fast I suppose
or maybe a little more
than average fast, I ventured.
you gotta draw.
Well, yes.
Umm, considered the Gunslinger
taking the telescope
from the Turned On Horse.
Please don’t hold my shortcoming
against me oh Gunslinger
and may I enquire of you—
Enquire? he breathed
don’t do that
Well then may I . . .
no I wouldn’t do that Either
How is it then?
How can such speed be?
You make the air dark
with the beauty of your speed,
Gunslinger, the air
separates and reunites as if lightning
had cut past
leaving behind a simple experience.
How can such aching speed be.
Are you, further,
a God
or Semidiós
and therefore mortal?
First things first
he reflected in the slit of his eyes
your attempt
is close
but let me warn you
never be close.
A mathematician from Casper Wyoming
years ago taught me That
To eliminate the draw
permits an unmatchable Speed
a syzygy which hangs tight
just back of the curtain
of the reality theater
down the street,
speed is not necessarily fast.
Bullets are not necessarily specific.
When the act is
so self contained
and so dazzling in itself
the target then
can disappear
in the heated tension
which is an area between here
and formerly
In some parts of the western world
men have mistakenly
called that phenomenology—
You mean, I encouraged
there is no diff
erence
between appearance and—
“Reality?” he broke in
I never “mean”, remember,
that’s a mortal sin
and Difference I have no sense of.
That might be your sin
and additionally—
Don’t add, that’s my stick,
the Horse said smiling.
Furthermore, the Gunslinger instructed—
More is more divine
said the Immobile Horse
Furthermore, don’t
attempt to burden me
with your encouragement
because
to go on to your second Question,
I am un semidiós.
And so you are mortal
after all said I
No mortal, you describe
yourself
I die, he said
which is not
the same as Mortality,
and which is why I move
between the Sun and you
the ridge is my home
and it’s why you seem
constructed of questions, uh,
What’s your name?
i, I answered.
That’s a simple name
Is it an initial?
No it is a single.
strum
Nevertheless,
it is dangerous to be named
and makes you mortal.
If you have a name
you can be sold
you can be told
by that name leave, or come
you become, in short
a reference, or if bad luck
is large in your future
you might become an institution
which you will then mistake
for defense. I could
now place you
in a column from which
There is No Escape
and down which The Machine
will always recognize you.
Or a bullet might be Inscribed
or I could build a maze
called a social investigation
and drop you in it
your name
into it—
Please! I implored him
you terrify me.
What then, I asked
is my case? looking into
the Odd toed ungulate’s eyes