Loose

The first time was the easiest. Not hard like they said. Just go slow, air thicker that sweat, stale beer left sitting for three days. It took three days for Christ to rise, three days for a woman to fall says my dad.
They were playing "Brown Sugar." Brown is always better than white, my mother says. White sugar flies away from your bones like dandelion fluff, brown sugar has grit to it sticks to your bones like the Lord's name. But the Lord's name doesn't get spoken much here unless you cussing someone out.
I always thought you should call on the devil when you're cussing someone out, the devil is more knowledgeable about evil, besides he knows the holes in people's souls, the hole you can sink your fingers into and not let go like a bowling ball.
Wasn't there a song about bowling, a strike for the Lord. Should be. But if you going to cuss someone with the Lord's name might as well make it sound good, no "Goddam asshole." Better to say "the Lord will cast plagues and locusts seven unto seven generations upon you."
A teacher told me about the plays they write in Greece about whole families dying from a curse generation unto generation. Like my family I wanted to tell her.
The men just sit there and watch; but then they paid their money so they can watch, cat blank faces, nothing moving but the tails, their hands rubbing the side of a glass.