Gone Lawn
a journal of literature
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Gone Lawn 2
Winter, 2010

Featured painting, Inside Concepts, by Tantra Bensko.

Featured Excerpt
New Works

Henry Vauban

Leaving New York

Puke. Running. Breath. Ten. Eight. Six. Four. Two. One. There. Home. Broken glass. Beggar. Jingle jangle morning. Must be cold at night. Warm here. Empty. Fridge. Eggs. Bread. Beer. Hot sauce. Old chicken box. Beer. Drink.

Blood. Lake. Cleaning. No. Better run. Who knows? Old man wrinkles. Looked in the eye. Moving fast. Suspect. Far off. No need to return. Moving away. Out. Out of state. Who knows? Money no. How? Mom. No.

Computer. Email. Password. Porn. Bigger cock. Nothing new. Where to? California. Arnold Austrian. No German. Passport. Plane. Money. Hitchhike. Florida. Old man. Wrinkles. No. Drifting. Trains. Hobo life. Hobo signs.

Illuminated. Nothing nowhere. The blank pages. Sign. Map. Invisible map. Lemon juice black-light. Where was it? Hammer. Not clean. Not clean. Fuck hammer. Damn it. Hammer. Too fast. Old man wrinkles. Where to? Money. Hitching. How? Stand with bag. Need dog. Longer hair. Different clothes. Thrift store. Sad smell. Unclean. Hitching life. Can't run forever.

Old home. Can't go back. No need to. New people. Bag. Few things. Shirt. Pants. Underwear. Razor. No hitching beard. Books. Carver. Beyond Good and Evil. Hölderlin. Fridge. Beer. Where to?

Knife. Dangerous. Fuck. Little. OK. Keys. Bag. Coat. Lock. Note. No note. Shit. Note. No. Out out out. Swift. Ten. Eight. Six. Four. Two. One. Down. Broke sorry. Hurry. Don't look hurried. Regular hitcher. Fuck. Polo shirt. Trade. Another beggar soon. Must be. New York. Junkies want money. Shirt trade. Trade again. Money. Shirt. Ok. Three blocks. Subway. Brad Pitt. Angie. Angie. Where will it lead us from here? So many children. One per country.

Cigarettes? No. Money. Counter edge menthols. Shit. Ok. Inside.

      I'd like some American Spirits please.

Good. Hippie. Hitcher. Roll it.

      Blue pouch. Not the box, the pouch please. To the left. Over there. No the blue one.
      Yeah. Thanks.
      That'll be—
      Sorry. Forgot my wallet.

Out. Got 'em. Hitching out of the city. Bus. Subway to Bus station. OK. Keep moving. Light up. Beggars soon. 42 St. L to Union Square. Green to bus station. Newspaper? No time. Beggars in Union Square.

Trains coming. Performers for nickels. Gotta get out. Get in. Sit down. No eye contact. Face in book. Which? Good and Evil. Hölderlin. Carver. Gazebo. Favorite. Sludge in pool. Teachers. Cheating. Good old times. The old future diverted. Start reading. Look like it. Appearance everything. No eye contact. Only a few minutes. Underwater.

1st. 3rd. Union. Shirt now? Yeah. Bus station cameras. Gotta look the part. Fuck up hair. Move idiots. Faster. Christ. Maybe a hat. First shirt. Up. Ten. Eight. Six. Four. Two. One. Up.

Swift. No too swift. Not threatening. Looks good. Hippie junkie beggar alone.

      Hey man. Wanna trade shirts?
      Shirt. Yeah, man. I gotta shirt. Spare me a dime bro?
      No. But if you want we can trade shirts. How 'bout it?
      Shit man. That's a blue shirt.
      Right. It's blue. You like blue? Let's trade.
      OK, man. You want the shirt off my back?
      Unless you got another.
      My favorite Dead shirt, man.
      Smells like it. You want to trade or not?
      I dunno man. That's just, like, blue, but I got lotsa colors.
      You could sell it. It's Polo. Maybe trade it for that diesel.
      I dunno man.
      Just give me your fucking shirt. I'm not fucking around anymore.
      OK OK, bro. Take it easy.

Fucking hippies. Junkie fuck. Too stupid to die.

      Here. A nice new Polo shirt. You'll be stylin' now.
      Stylin' man. I'm always stylin'.

Green uptown. Fucking junkie fucks. Back in the tunnels. Down down down. Drink. Paper bag on ground. Beer paper bag subway. Getting into it. Bum life. Outta town. Fucking Oregon. Dope for miles. Stupid hippies. Organic greens. Maybe farm for food. Anywhere else. Wait for train. Hammer. Fuck. Not clean. Blood lake. Old man wrinkles.

Get in. Sit down. Book. Gazebo. Less than 20 minutes. Out of the city. That's the problem. Trapped. No money. Trapped. Never leave legal. Hitch later. Cab now. Lincoln Tunnel. Jersey. Solid ground. Hitch from Jersey. Steal cab. Take to ATM. Forgot money. Bounce. Brown hair. Yeah. Jersey. Then west. Gazebo. Distinguished. Have a cup of water. People played music. Grass. Forest wanted back. Fighting nature. Dominance. Shattered. Fucking maids. Trust. Cocksucker looking at me. Fuck. He knows. Can't know. Hammer. Dirty fuck hammer. Look at book. West from Jersey. Hitch from Jersey. First get a cab. Looking at me.

      Cocksucker! Stop looking at me!

Right. Turn away bitch. Scene. Doesn't matter. Leaving soon. Nonentity soon. This is New York. No noticing. Pull out cock. They'll look away. No problem. Taxi out. Finally. Losing it a bit. Settle. Beer before taxi. Tallahassee. Mountain Goats. No Children. No home. Pound beer. Then taxi. Jersey. West hitching. Out. Fucking people. Move. Zigzagging bastards. No goals. Not me. First Jersey. Light up. Fucking menthol. Kids' cigarettes.

      Excuse me, sir. You know you can't smoke here.
      Oh, yes. Of course.

Back in time. 70s. Punk Rock. Sid Vicious.

      I apologize.

Polite. Together. Cocksucker. Outside. Move fucks. Beer. Swill bag. Out. Light up. Menthol. Drink. Suck smoke. Taxi. Out Jersey. ATM bounce. Hand high. Empty. Empty. Empty. Black? Fuck. Hippie shirt. Fucked hair. Fix hair. Stand straight. Full. Empty. Yes.

      Where to buddy?
      I'm headed to Jersey.
      I'll take you through the tunnel, but I ain't going any furtha boss.
      That's just where I'm going. My boys'll pick me up on the other side.

Through tunnel. Hold breath. Sixty. Fifty-nine. Fifty-eight. Fifty-seven. Forget it. No breath.

      Mind if I smoke in here?
      Roll down the window. I don't care.

Menthol. Candy shit sticks. Jersey. Hate Jersey. No one likes. Garden state. Grandparents. Emphysema. Heart failure. On couch. Blood lake. Hammer. Dirty. West. Maybe home. Not home. Home. Unannounced. Dirty Ehrma's.

      You can just let me out in front of that pharmacy. I gotta pick up some cash.
      OK. But leave your bag here. I don't want ya taking off on me.
      No problem boss. How much is it?

Distracted. Bounce. Running. Stupid fuck. Urban hick. Corner. Gone.

Henry Vauban lives in the Black Forest. He enjoys staring at books, people, and landscapes. Vauban Inc. is Henry's home on the internet and he encourages you to send your work there, too.