Hannah Wilke in Spades

Henry depressed, his shrink at the welfare office needed to ask him a few questions—

Do you want to have sex with your mother?

Do you want to kill your father?

Do u like to wear pink silk panties?

Can u get an erection? 

Do you feel like you are drowning in an ocean of shit? 

How about homo-erotic fantasies? 

So on and so forth, finally giving him some plastic containers of Lexapro and Zoloft, explaining that it would take a while to find the right dosage and for the psycho-dope to kick in—as well as no drugs, no drinking. 

Walking out of the welfare office wondering if the shrink thought psycho-dope was dope?   

He sees a panhandler on the sidewalk begging for change, Henry gives him the psycho-dope and says,

knock yourself out buddy, 

the panhandler says, 

wow, I’ll bong these little guys up in the park tonight.

As far as psycho-dope went, Henry felt that after  taking the stuff over time your body would begin to resist it and you would have to take more and more for it to work.

Similar to Hunter S. Thompson’s daily LSD use for years, acid stopped working for him and perhaps he didn’t realize it, anyway!

Henry would continue to self medicate with cocaine, booze and heroin as usual. Depression came and went like the seasons, shit was always changing. 

As the sun sets Henry dresses to go out— chinos, a white shirt with no collar, a black vest and a plastic rosary to ward off evil spirits. 

He walks a short distance to Chaim’s Deli, going inside and sitting at his favorite booth. Ruby his regular waitress comes to him moving real sexy like and says, 

Henry where the fuck have you been? We have been worried shitless doll. 

He says,

I have been in hiding, trying to chase the blues away. Ruby doll, I’ll have a pastrami sandwich on dark rye, some burnt french fries with mayo on the side, a big bowl of coleslaw and a Jack and Coke.

Henry  felt railroaded by Ruby sometimes, it wasn’t what she said on the surface, she cajoled him in subtle ways.

He would shut her down by ordering food, it was a cue for her to leave, then while eating he would keep his eyes focused on the food, only looking up at Ruby when he wanted another drink—this was risky because she might start in on him again. 

Henry says goodnight to the crowd at the deli, grabbing Ruby’s ass on the way out, she gets pissed off and slaps his face—

nothing like some old-fashioned kinky fun,

he heads into the streets, walking through the Bowery. A bum who is standing close to a fire burning in a garbage can says—

Henry how's tricks buddy? 

Henry says, 

oh, I’ve been fighting off the blues and laying low in my apartment.

The bum says,

I got some-tin here that will take care of da depress-in you got, smoke— Sterno juiced, take a hit pal.

Henry keeps walking and nods his head smiling, wanting to get through the Bowery to higher stuff. 

He stops in Cafe 56 in Manhattan to see what is going on. At the door there are two trannies, one is Hillary Clinton and the other is Oprah Winfrey, Hillary says—

Hannah Wilke, no cover, 4 drink minimum, top self only— nice Henry thought, he sits at a small table that is close to a shallow, elevated round stage painted with planets and stars that glow, he orders 4 shots of tequila.

Hannah Wilke enters the room naked with her hair in rollers, she has a beautiful face and an athletic body with slightly saggy tits, she is sexy. 

She bends over at the waist, she is standing in the middle of the painted stage spreading her legs, her back is to Henry. She pulls a hand full of lint out of her vagina which she mixes with a large wad of gum she is chewing, pulling small pieces of the mixture off and putting the pieces on her face and then all over her body in perfect symmetrical order.

She then pulls the rollers from her hair and throws them into to the audience, tossing her hair with her hands and shaking her head about. 

She lays on her back and opens her legs spraying the audience with water for a long time. She must have had a bladder full of water hidden somewhere near her vagina.  

Hannah bows towards the audience and leaves the room, Henry orders 4 more shots of tequila and lights a joint, one of the trannies, Hillary Clinton rushes to his table saying,

sir you will have to put that out, sorry,

Henry laughs as he takes a large hit, blowing the smoke in Hillary's face and saying,

if I was you I wouldn't run for dog catcher. 

Hannah Wilke comes back into Cafe 56 dressed in tight blue jeans, a plaid shirt and sexy high heel pumps, looking at Henry, sitting down and saying,

what did you think of the show? 

Henry says, 

Can I buy you a shot, oh the show was great, I loved the way you moved and spread the lint and gum mix on your body as though you are trying to transform your female selfhood into something else.  

She says I’m Hannah Wilke nice to meet you,

The two begin to bang down shots of Tequila, Henry is really turned on by Hannah and wants to fuck her in a big, big way. 

She says, 

Let’s get outta here and go to my loft down the street. 

They walk a few blocks  to an old factory building, Hannah unlocks a black metal door, they go inside and ride an open freight elevator up a few stories. 

Her loft is full of drawings and half finished paintings of herself and vaginas, the floors are made of unstained wood, her bedroom has a single king-sized bed in it and is separated from the rest of the loft by hanging gold curtains. 

They sit in an area of the loft that has a ripped up red leather sofa and matching lounge chairs. There is a large round antique wooden table in the center adorned with carved skulls, butterflies and dragons. 

Henry takes some cocaine from his vest pocket and lays out some lines on a small mirror, he says,

Hannah my name is Henry by the way, and I have to be honest with you, I’m really hot for you. 

Hannah goes to her bedroom and changes into a kimono and comes out again, she is still wearing her high heals. Then she goes into a open kitchen and brings a king-size bottle of saki too the table which she pours into small cups, they down a few cups and she says to him, 

are you an artist darling? 

He says,

yes I’m a short story writer, my pen name is Figaro Lucowski, you might have seen my books on Amazon. 

Hannah was laughing and thinking the ideal of selling art on Amazon was a joke says, 

lets fuck baby, 

They go into her bedroom, booth jazzed up plenty, they get naked and hold each other tight, Henry is hard in a split second, Hannah licks him from the balls up, then deep throat and tea-bag style, grabbing his balls with both of her hands. 

He then turns over going on top of her, going deep inside her, she is limber as gymnast, raising her legs over her head and clasping them on the back of her neck.  

They ball for hours, it was the best sex Henry had ever had and his depression was lifted. 

The experience reminded him of a Henry Miller story about a Zen monk who spends 20 years in a monastery, doing everything in spades to reach self-awakening,  giving up one day— going into town and getting drunk on rice wine and going to a cat-house, as he is having sex and reaching orgasm he is instantly enlightened. 

Henry not reaching one-mindedness during sex with Hannah, but his depression was gone—   

Hannah Wilke was the sexiest women in the world, she was magic and a bigger than life artist.  

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