posted on March 1, 2006 at 12:40 am

billy franklin was a MEMORY dealer
he lived in a shadow between the Verdant Parks
and the burnt ruins of the Maze
i.d been to see him plenty, fiendss
i met plenty of other M addicts at his place
we’re all waiting around downstairs
in that dark spiderwebbed and creaky house
while billy and his missus
theyre up there weighing up the fuckin M
squabbling and hassling
and carrying on
thatss too much for him…
no i owed him some….
fucken bullshit rhonda…
their bickering hissed into a whisper
we downstairs strained our ears to hear
it had gone quiet up there
this was a badde sign for us jonesin’ ninnies
down below
it meant they were kissing and “making uppe”
and or
they were sampling their own goodes
which was very badde for us
i recognised namen turner there
the famous actor
he was the guy who played napoleon
in that special on the hustler channel
he also used to go out with the chick
in the gillette commercials
who o.d.ed on m and e and h and c
the alphabet heiress or airhead
trumpeted the daily muck
a reputable gossip-paper
who printed all those lies about
about my crazed rampages
and subsequent arrests
turner caught my eye
goodaye sk, ya been waitin long?
turner proffered a limp pale hand
i ignored it
he was jonesin’ bad
i felt nothing for him
shooting MEMORY had fucked up my compassion
i didnt care if turner waited here all day
im next namen
i said in a dry voice that crackled and fizzed
when they come down, theyre lookin after me
yeah no problem
said the little wimp
oh yeah hey sk
i gotta my own band now
you should come and see us
we’re playing the leather martini
next tuesday, putcha name onna door?
dont bother i said
i aint coming
the last thing this whirld needs
is another fuckin actor strummin a geetar
and comin on all indy..
fuck you kilbey
turner snarled
youll see…
suddenly with much stumbling and wheezing
franklin and rhonda came back down the stairs
the M fiendss gathered round
like a pack of pidgeons round an olde lady
with breadcrumbs
pecking and squawking at each other
billy tossed me my lil packet contemptuously
you dont get much for 500 these days mate
i gazed in disbelief
at the tiny little bit of MEMORY
hed given me
i looked up
if you dont like it go to hell
turner smirked at me
well look what i got here
he held up his bulging packet
now both of you get the fuck out of my house
billy pushed us to the door
turner nipped off into a waiting taxi
and sped outta site
but i knew where that little fiend lived
mercury towers
down the end of merlin street
i took an elektrotram down to the docks
from there on foot
to mercury towers
graffitied to read:
MEMORY towers
i went up to turners floor
i came here once years ago
to a party and someone had said
thats namen turners place…
i banged on his door
like a foole he opened it
he was loaded like a dice
he was ethered like a salmon
he was as spliced as a bad film
i grabbed him
turner, can i just lend a little M off ya?
he lurched backwards into his hall
he hadda a load of pre-war era stuff on the wall
i began pushing my hands thru his pockets
looking for the fucking stuffe
he grabbed a knife from somewhere
and slashed my forehead
you little bastard i hissed
then he sank it deep into my heart
my life passed before my eyes
i watched it all second by second
all slowed down and exploded
multi angled and precise
yet incredibly fast
and it was over
there was an ineffable freedom
it was the release i’d always imagined
to go everywhere
or just be nowhere
it lasted for a million years

when i opened my eyes
i was surprised to see billy franklin
squinting down at me
man you better take it easy with this stuff
youre onstage in 2 minutes…
hey billy..
i struggled to talk
is my lute in tune….?

29 Responses to “painkiller”

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