...silent sentinels on the dashboard of one's Kiaa silent, plastic affirmation on every speed bumpmolded to sin, an acquiescence lacking a spineholding steady in dull redundancy with a vacantgaze nodding, engaged in narcissistic intimacy...Talking to the monkey in one's...

Musette DuBois, was stoned, rising from the bastion of her mahogany bed at twilight's moon—she worked the night shift on cannery row—it was the weekend, and she was free to wander the streets of Baton Rouge—the Rangoon bubbled, with...