Saturday, November 3, 2012

blink & its wednesday or the aftermath of sandy

31 october 2012.
for the san francisco giants, adele parker & aleister crowley
confounding all thought remotely revealing common sense or could we possibly be there yet? saturday samarai & sushi to go. hit the p.o. early, or could it have been one really knows...but returned to the citadel for an early lunch with the circus remnants too chicken shit to leave town & i dont recall just where the fuck they were going...moldova, hoboken or niagara falls...& still havent heard. by sunday obscure gypsies & thieves were circulating in the back streets near the citadel & we found ourselves sharpening the bamboo poles we'd kept around since irene's visit some 14 months prior. back street decadence doesnt arrive until dusk...the pills had worn off as the ice clinked for the dregs of gin or was it vodka with a splash? no one can recall. a damp monday overeasy: drizzle drizzle drizzle & the kitchen window is closed for the first time in months...the usual shenanigans suspended as the rain intensifies...howlin' wind, the blues & a strongly herbed chicken. why werent you here homeboy!?! warm enough tuesday for soul searching, portofino persuasion & a casual porch conversation w/ anyone brave enough for a verbal version of what you are reading now. blink & wednesday rolls in calmly, all in all obscurely, with no demands but to kick out the jams, declare who you are (if you dare) quickly, don your true will & the hat of your choice! may the anrchist gypsy be with you