Road Movies

by practicalspactical

Take the plots of all the great road movies, and weave them together, with Huck and Jim and sometimes Tom in fast cars and nice cars and hitchhiking and stranded in highway resttops and stuck on top of mountains and staying in cheap motels and scoring dope in random cities and waking up in strange places and searching always searching for Old Man Moriarty or the Great Big Pooh Bear in the Sky, or Nobody or Nobodaddy or something or someone new or old or precious that never ever changes never ever changes and then lay all the tales and stories and scenes and set pieces in a row from end to end cut up and reconfigured on transparent tracing paper with the light shining behind it and then let it circle like a kaleidoscopic toy windmill in the hand of a dark-haired child and the story is not seen or read or understood but experienced, absorbed, like blotter-paper  this is my body on the tip of my tongue —