Free House of Earth by Woody Guthrie Page A

the very next time that one of those big mean old dust storms comes along, why, you wait till it gets just at its worst, see? Then.”
    â€œThen.”
    â€œThen you grab your hat and run out and catch it.”
    â€œYeeeehh.”
    â€œThen. You put your hand over your hat, like this.” She slapped him in the middle of the back. “Like, so.”
    â€œSo ho ho ho.” He acted like he was coughing. “What?”
    â€œThen you run over to the iron water tank, and you stick the hat and all, dust storm and all, down under the water, and you hold it down there till it tames down, and all of the wind and air goes out of it, and it just turns into soil, dirt again. Then you go and you lay it down somewhere, anywhere you want to, and it will be your land. Your farm. Your ranch.”
    And Tike told her, “By grabs an’ by grasshoppers, I’m a-gonna do that. That very thing. I swear by twenty rows of burnt corn, I’ll do it. I’ll do it just as sure as I’m a layin’ here.”
    â€œWill you, sure enough? Tike?” She opened her eyes wide and spoke in the manner of a fairy poet beholding the folding and the unfolding of a homeless flower. “Will you, ohhh, will you really? Really? Will yooo? Ohhh. Deah. My deah. You don’t know, you just don’t know, you neverwill know, how it would thrill me, and fill me, and chill me and frill me and dill me and spill me and drill me and lil me and hill me and till me and bill me and jack me and jill me. You just don’t have any idea, any ideeeaa, my dyeahhh, to see you really do something, anything, anything, just so it was something, anything. Ohh. Ahhmm. Tikus. My little Mikus.”
    â€œMy little tokus,” he said. “You sound like one of them screwballs that lives on millionaire hill. You ain’t been out sleepin’ with none of them bats, have you?”
    â€œOooo. Nooo.”
    â€œHush yer trap, then.”
    â€œOne has to talk, doesn’t one?”
    â€œYeah … But one’s goddang jaw hadn’t oughta run plumb off with one. Had one?”
    â€œYou’ve injured my self-esteem. You’ve dealt a blow, and a sorry blow, to my pride. You’ve insulted my creative soul. And I refuse to speak to you any longahhh. You have squelched my career. Good-bye. Ohhh!”
    Tike did not make any sort of a reply right then. He lifted his face above hers and whistled a little tune. And then when his little tune was whistled out, there was no sound in the barn nor in the hay, except outside there jumped and buzzed a few grasshoppers that had managed to stay alive so late in the summer.
    Together they moved, rolled, hugged onto one another on the overalls and jumper and on the lightweight cotton dress.
    And after a few more minutes had gone by with no more than the sound of their breath, their kisses, their nips, bites, and grunts, Tike asked her, “Lady. How does it feel? Say.”
    â€œGood.”
    â€œJust good?”
    â€œJust good.”
    â€œI always like to hear you tell me how it feels.”
    â€œJust goody, good, good.”
    â€œI mean, ah, my penis, Lady. How does it feel when it’s way up inside your belly thisaway? Huh?” He raised himself up on his hands to see the hair on their stomachs wet and stuck together with the juices and the liquids that flowed from her. “All, all, all th’ way in. All, all, all, th’ way in. Want me to hold it in a lot longer, Lady? Gosh. I want to do what you want me to do. I can hold it in you all day if you like it thataway.”
    â€œTeeny more.”
    â€œHow’s it feel? I ask’d you.”
    â€œHow?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    â€œDoes it feel big?”
    â€œUh-huh.”
    â€œWhat else?”
    â€œHot. Big. Slick. Juicy. Close.”
    â€œWhat else?”
    â€œEverything. Come on. Hold me tight. Kiss me. Ohhhhmmm. Tike. Close. Here. Kiss. Oh.