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| yiddish, muslim, eve, dirty humor, ha ha, religion, stories, drunk moms, literary, peter manseau, falafael, pogrom, jeff sharlet, stand up comedy, lopez, drunk driving law, abovethe law, labor laws, theology, | "You are glad I'm here, right? mom and son sex I mean, I know you are, but, well, are you?" "Please, we must stay quiet." Eli had never understood why Michael needed to talk so much. He and his American friends all traded intimacies like poker chips: "This scar's from when my stepmother mom and son sex hit me with a brush... He fucked me up the ass four months before I told him it hurt... No, the third time I was hospitalized for depression..." "Does mom and son sex your girlfriend know?" Michael asked. "How do you know she knows?" |
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| "I remember when theology you were five. Can theology I have a kiss?" This was the mythical boy whose mother sent his old clothes for Eli to wear: T-shirts and sweaters with American words, theology and faded jeans. "So are you going to give me that flower or stand there holding it all night?" The muscles in Eli's neck went lax under Michael's awkward icy fingers massaging his skin, deliberate and greedy with lust. Eli wished he could speak more English. He wished they could stay in a hotel by the beach and touch for hours with the door locked. Who would have found them? No, it was impossible because they deserved to get caught. Eli kissed Michael's forearm. Unlike his own, it tasted plain, with no tang of salt. |
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