/lit/ - Literature

[Anonymous No.3383239]

I went by this Chrysler on my Honda the other day. It was a sort of cold green car, in front of the bank. This nigger was eating a banana, hanging his leg out the front seat on the curb. He didn't have socks. He was truly eating that banana. Eating it was giving him such pleasure, I rounded the block and came by again to see him finish it off. By that time he was throwing the peel in the gutter.
I shut off the bike.
“Hey, man! You can't foul up the streets like that!” I said.
He looked at me awhile and then got out and picked up the peel.
“Who's that car belong to?” I said.
I'm a very slight guy and about that time something embarrassing happened. The motorbike fell over on me and I couldn't squirm out from under it before the muffler pipe had burned the dook out of my leg through my jeans. I pulled my leg out of the bike and jumped around on the walk. One of my old girl friends walked by and I was humiliated.
“My sister,” said the nigger.
“You just sitting out here eating a banana waiting for her?”
“Correct.”
“Oh ho. You been educated.”
“Junior college.”
I was still hopping around somewhat.
“It hurt, don't it?” he said.
“Somewhat.” My leg was about to go over the border into some kind of new state of pain.
He had him another banana by then.
“You wearing a nowhere helmet, baby,” he said.
“What's wrong with my goddamn helmet?”
“Look like some other person ought to be in it. That's some kind of airplane orange, ain't it?”
“Lets 'em see you at night, brother.”
“What you come here criticizing my bananas for?”
“There was a way you were doing it, eating. Your eyes were big and your jaw humped out. You were really having fun. It's not the same with the one you have now. You're doing it more casual-like now, little bitty bites, more civilized.”

[Anonymous No.3383242]

“I never came in your house watch you eat,” he said. “Tomorrow I'm coming over your house watch you eat. I'm gone drive my sister's Chrysler into your house and hang out the window watch you eat. Where you live?”
“Wait. No offense. I didn't mean anything by it,” I said.
“Where you live?”
“I don't have to tell you that.”
“This Chrysler is my home. It's me and my sister's home. Where you live?”
“Three oh four Earnest Lane.”
If I hadn't been in such pain, I'd never have told him.
“This car's the only home we got,” he said. “We be by your place tomorrow.”
His sister came out of the bank. She had on stilt shoes and this African jewelry all over her. She got in the Chrysler. I heard her talking to him.
“They turned us down for the loan,” she said.
He never even looked my way when they backed out and drove off. I was trembly. My stomach was upset, and my leg had never quit hurting. Another thing. I'd been driving my bike around town thinking things over about reality and eternity and went by the Baptist church several times reading the marquee. It said: Pay Now, Fly Later. I'd decided I was going to quit fucking around and be a Christian.

[Anonymous No.3383256]

>“What you come here criticizing my bananas for?”

[Anonymous No.3383262]

>>3383239
>>3383242

is that it?

not bad anon, not bad

[Anonymous No.3383654]

what's this, an actual funny, original piece on my /lit/?

[Anonymous No.3383685]

Hello? I'd like to wire all of my money to OP, stat.

[Anonymous No.3383703]

lol funny moar.

[Anonymous No.3383743]

so how many of the responses were by you?

[Anonymous No.3383767]

>>3383743

Two

[Anonymous No.3383774]

>>3383767
oh I assumed all of them.

Not that it was a bad piece, but lit is so harsh and this was nothing amazing. It reads a bit like the hilarious prose poems of James Tate.

do you read James Tate?

[Anonymous No.3383784]

I liked it