Guatemullet By Ronny       Defying the mass of humanity, the flesh of Guatemala was packed into a school bus like an African train. Standing shoulder to bosom, elbow to face and gripping overhead bars, we left the mild town of Antigua, to the city of iron teeth. I was sqeezed against the driver, my foot jammed next to the gear shift being rammed mercilessly back and forth up the hill. A good looking woman beside me was thrown back and forth through the sharp corners smiling and apologizing. My one hand held the handle bar and the other was continually molested by the buttocks and crotches of fellow crew members.       Just out of town the driver screamed at us to duck down so the police wouldn't see how overcrowed the bus was and force people to get off. Crouched inside the herd of bodies I thought of our brotherhood together, evading the law without qualm, grinning as though we defeated Goliath with a spit wad.       People began getting off outside the Capital and I studied the puzzle of body parts slither through hips and chests, intrigued and impressed. A chubby Indo woman moved through slowly and determined like a drugged eel. America could keep their white lines and exact change.       After an hour of virtual fornication, my two friends and I got off in the outer part of the city. We ran across the street that would happily grind your bones if you happen to slip. A few steps from the curb I dropped my newly lit cigarette and retreated back to pick it up, wondering if a bus would take my head off instead of using the breaks.       We stepped into a dirty comedor with loud music and people scattered among the tables. The madaam came around and we ordered three drinks. Close by two women talked over their empty liters of beer. They were stalking and half drunk, slouching in their chairs like weary labours. Their beauty had been leached away by child bearing, market haggling, no break decades and this demented city.       Irwin went off to the bathroom and came back a few minutes later. "Were you banging on the damn bathroom door?" "No" I said, he looked at me for a sign of lying, "Well someone sure as hell was and then he started pulling at the door and I had to hold it shut with one hand and piss with the other, plus the light didn't work, so I had to wander my stream around until I heard the splash."       We finished, paid and left. Outside we waited for the bus to the center of the ninth circle, where Satan chewed Judas in his mouth. Within a few minutes a back firing

bus came and made a notorius rolling stop as we hopped in, paid and sat down. The trip was moderately violent as we bounced and swung on the hardwood elementary school chairs bolted to the floor. I fell asleep and was awakened by the savage sounds of downtown. Here you must press your body and mind into heavy armor, your face must lose its humanity and virtue, you must become a mullion in the boiling blood.       Jose went to a pay phone and I stood by on the sidewalk watching "The Pit" move. Two young men were selling peanuts and peel fruit, some girls leaned against a wall at the entrance of a store, they glanced at me with narrow questioning eyes and I stared back without an answer. One of the girls stepped over to the fruit stand and bought an orange, then disappeared through the door. I turned to one of the young men and asked for the price of peanuts and pulled out three quetzals and paid. I began cracking the shells and shucking them to the sidewalk without remorse.       People moved all around me, hitting my shoulders and continuing as I stood dead looking into a store window display. It proudly presented sport coats, oxford shirts and ties in perfect formation and cordination.       My eyes traveled further down to the blue concrete sill, where a camoflaged row of spikes stood where someone would sit. I touched the three inch spears with my finger, they had been sharpened so the weight of unexpectant hams would sink to its base, one dagger possibly going directly through the anus.       With blood flowing out of four circular holes in your puncured ass you'd have to go to a hospital. No one would help you, the young men selling peanuts and peeled fruit would say, "we don't sell ambulances", the girls standing in the doorway would snicker and go inside, the people on the sidewalk would step on you, the owner would cry over his crimson spikes and finally you would pass out, one thumb extended for a taxi the other plugging a wound, night would fall and thieves would take your wallet and shoes. That window sill said everything I hated about this city, it cried barbarianism and apathy.