We stared down the highway into Elwood City with apprehensive eyes as the sun beat down on us with the intensity of the very soul of opppression as the wind kicked up the sand and the heat radiated like spirits in the sky. I looked over and there he was, Travis, there he was with a smooth crotch and no clothes dripping wet enjoying the sun as if he was a newborn prophet enjoying the new found life of liberation and knowledge. I looked at him and he looked at me and he said to me "the bath was good, the bath is good, I enjoyed the bath". That is all he said to me as I turned back to the desolete landscape and looked forward and the sun and the sand and the heat all focused on me with a particular intensity as the sweat drips down and stains the ground as blood stains the soil. I stood up and walked toward the road, the car was silent and it'd godlike hymns were quiet as Travis took out the knife and began to silently pray to himself that occassionally breeched the quiet solitude that is achieved between the known and the unknown. I looked at him witn solemn eyes and he did not look back, I don't think he even acknowledged me anymore, if he even acknowledge anything else anything anymore other than the bath and the knife. He says finally outloud with a ferocious roar as if he has been taken by the spirits of the sun and the wind and the heat and he says "I have no genitals, there are no genitals, I am smooth as God created me as such In Fact Of Course". The sweat begins to build and the drops fall off my face like a river, more blood for the soil. I look at him with dead eyes as he takes the knife and saws at his Genitals with an intensity I had not seen, the Penis and the Testicles being removed swiftly with a beautiful erotic violence that was primeval in it's application and soulful in it's execution. The blood flows and I stand at last, my prescence in the sand marked and noted and remembered as he lays in the increasing pool of blood that surrounds him as the darkness of evil surrounds a man's heart in his most desperate measure. He says as he looks at the sky with it's beating heat and sing song wings he looks and says he enjoys the bath. I've seen enough. He looks like a corpse as the blood feeds the earth and the soil as it always have. I get in my car, a beautiful Falcon I bought from a war vet that no longer had use for it as his son had killed himself, maybe over a girl or some other trivial matter that would not impact the cloth of human history. I bought it off him in Tuscon, Arizona in the summer of 63. I start the car and the holy hymn of the American Industrial Godhead "FORD" begins to sing it's beautiful song and the eroticism returns to me once again. The erotic violence that Travis must of felt in his final moments I know understand. I turn the radio on, I hit the gear and off we go on the highway that leads to Elwood City. I'm not going to Elwood City, maybe I'll go to LA or San Francisco or maybe I'll go to Mexico but the world is my path and I will follow it. As I leave the seemingly insignificant lot that all this and all that will be said about this I look over. It's nothing but blood, more blood, Christ that is a lot of Blood. I feel the beauty as I feel the motor run and see Travis and his corpse in the background, increasingly fading as I drive down the great American experience. It'a like a bad dream, or a good dream, I'm unsure of it now but one day I'll know. The blood seaps into the soil as more life. The blood is all I can see as I follow the American life with an intense Erection and Jim Morrison on the Radio. The blood is all that is left and will be left. I finally stop looking and keep going West, my time here is done and the great calling that brought the people to the West calls me too. The blood is like life to the highway, man's industrial Erection to it's achievements of motor Godhead. That's all I have to feel as I speed along, the sun following me as I go, a destination unknown but accepted with open arms.