painting by fernando botero
“A catless writer is nearly inconceivable, but it would be
easier to write with a herd of buffalo in the room than
even one cat.”--Barbara Holland.
1(sound cue) Indian flute & a harp.
2(wide shot) a verdant mountain meadow with a beautiful
Indian maiden frolicking in it.
3(crane shot) dolly in quickly to medium shot as the native
American beauty in her white buckskin dress lies in bright
4(sound cue) soft singing--Comanche love song.
5(medium close-up) the maiden laughing with her head back,
her raven tresses shining with sunshine & blue/white beads.
6(cut to another medium close-up) the prostitute in approximately
the same body position, replacing beauty & grace with
bloat & bovinity.
7(two-shot) Buck & Millie
8(sound cue) saloon piano & tomcat screeching.
Buck: have you ever made love outside?
9(close-up) Millie: what?
--her face a blank stare, not hearing him, not really seeing
him, not planning on remembering him.
10(close up) Buck: have you ever humped under a jack pine
with a butterfly on your butt?
11(two-shot) over Buck’s shoulder.
Millie: yeah--sure, but I didn’t like it much. Bugs crawl on you.
12(cut to reverse shot) over Millie’s shoulder.
Buck: hell, that could happen in this room.
--Millie forces a giggle.
--Buck stares at her like she was a piece of dead meat.
13(sound cue) violin & harmonica.
14( medium close-up) but tightening the shot as Millie speaks:
Yes, yes--when I was young, still living on the farm. I used to
enjoy riding the rods outside on those long warm summer
evenings, rolling in the wheat grass or hay with the sweet boys.
15(sound cue; VO) Buck: did you ever enjoy it?
Millie: shit yes--I could howl like a she-wolf in heat & dig my
nails in like a wildcat.
16(extreme close-up) a wide tear rolling down through the
rouge & powder;
Millie: but not for a long time.
Buck: now you have lots of boyfriends.
Millie: like the damn belle of the ball, sir.
18(sound cue) banjo & juice harp.
19(cut to a reverse two shot) Buck with his back to the
camera struggling out of his leather pants, wearing
a clean red breechclout for underwear; stepping out
of that & standing tall over her, the muscles in his
back & buttocks flexing.
20(medium close-up) Millie’s face, her eyes large, with
a genuine smile blossoming.
21(sound cue) violin’s strident plucking.
22( camera tracking away) from the busy couple, panning
the small room slowly; bright petticoats & corsets poking out
of partly open drawers, the yin-yang teddy bears watching
with their black button eyes, his boots, the gun belt, her
rumpled black gown, yellow wildflowers in a fruit jar, the
water pitcher & bowl, stopping at the open window, a small
breeze tickling the curtains;
23( sound cues running under the images)
--Millie whimpering & forced moaning.
--Buck breathing hard through his mouth.
--bed springs squeaking.
--jazz brushes harmonizing with the bed springs.
--brushing increasing in tempo with the springs, as they
clanked & complained like a weather vane in high wind;
--then Bap comes one loud drum beat, followed by three more,
blending over the top of Buck’s guttural grunting, & Millie’s
real orgasmic scream--& then topping that we hear the eerie
bellow of a bull buffalo.
24(close-up) Buck, opening his eyes, tilting his head, wondering
if he really heard the bison.
25(close-up) Millie, smiling, her eyes still closed.
26(cut to medium wide shot) the white buffalo standing on a ridge
27(sound cue) six-string guitar chords.
28(cut back to a medium shot) Buck wearing his breechclout, standing
near the open window, his back to the camera, holding a dirty glass
with two fingers of bourbon in it.
29( tighten the shot; dolly up behind him) revealing the roof beyond,
as a large yellow tom cat pads by, pauses for a moment, eyes them
with cat slits, & moves on out of the frame.
30(two shot) Millie getting dressed, Buck turning toward her.
Buck: is that your cat?
Millie: hell, no--he just hangs around here all the time--some of the
girls feed him [giggling] this is a cathouse, you know?
31( cut to a reverse crane shot) POV from outside the window.
Buck leans against the open frame, sipping his bourbon.
Buck: cats are not very tasty--even if you’re hungry.
Posted over on dVerse Poets OLN125
Would you like to hear the author read this Cinemagenic poem to you?