it looked like a big desert kitty box the military base twenty-nine palms in the seventies i was stationed there a member of the u.s marine corps but there were no palms, we called it the stumps if we were done with daily duties then the joshua tree monument close by a cactus looking like long scary arms the party there on cheap wine and warm beer a strange dark night met there a man-like gnome when we balanced sitting on canyon stair of this i'm quite sure we were drunk and stoned his old hippie label was pisces tom this lonely cat was living off the grid the hidden life of a wild hermit guy surviving in a bamboo forest shed he raised a huge hog he wanted to sell to catch the pig but he needed some help said he would pay us what he could afford some other drunks and i agreed to schlep directed us to a wide bamboo grove the path cut an oasis of green poles a clearing opened up a center place arriving we saw the hippie's hut house the fenced-off pig sty with a giant hog and even though we still a whole lot sloshed this job was much much more than we could cog the old hippie had a stalled junker car this nut wanted to tie the hog woozy however refused to get in the door the high-pitched squealing fight was a doozie it was lashed to the old car's trunk seat floor the broken down junk heap didn't run too well the stalled engine forced tom to coast downhill the market was fifty long miles away a dollar per pound pisces got his pay reviving his pocket with bit of ham his helpers, tom cobb and i, got our spam the sobering factoid with my twitches a fierce grunt for measly spam sandwiches 3.9 10/10 © Brian Peter Hodgkinson
No Fan of Ham
17
May