snig

prologue...pre=log:

On account of, [and because] i am now Visiting

the central arts district--i've scored and sent a

handful of arty post=cards to my Friends using

salvaged 32¢ schtamps. {is it Possible, in this Age

of instantaneity, to write and Compose cards and

lettres? hmm} Of this^, i may be Amembered.

So there i was with my bindle, walking along the

secondary twixt 13th & 14th Avenues, when a

middling blonde sitting upon a schtoop Aquired

of me,«Hey! What's your name?» Being a friendly

person, i introduced my=self to her & she to me.

She made othre queries of me as we schpoke

briefly, and She offered me a swig of fortified

beer...at a quarter to Eleven in the city morning?!

[there was a man up and behind her on the porch]

For all my need of such compromised pulchritude,

i elected to continue on and go to werk. The man

gave me quizzicle looks as i left; he called after me,

«Things are rough.» Perhaps~i was Solicited, may

wise the Woman was merely a lonesome Angel.

To the propreity and intention of the Man, i have

no inkling of Theory. {iffen i'da walkt anothre way,

i woulda misst 'em Entirely} Right effort...

So there i was, last Sun*Day, all risen up at Eight

o'clock in the morning, setting and sitting in the

cantilevered pew with ROBERTA, when in walks one

of my Customers with her fambly And she says hello.

Filosofy! Is it possible that i can't travel Any=where

without running into Persons i know? OR is it designed

that wherever i'm at, Them is already there every=one

i have altogethre met? It is a stark dawn ponderance

IF form forever folloes function. {i prefer to note that

evything is Connected, moment by moment}

TITLE: Behind The Line And Time, Above The Nadir

MOOD: externally introspectif, joyfully suffering *zen*

NOISE: city life--voices--band concerts

SOOP: chicken is all, next one better

WIDEO: totally missing the final season of MONK

WEATHRE: blazing hot, brief rain, hot again

NATURE: the dang tree=frogs are Happy enuf and

the gnats are finding their way into nearly every orifice!

THOT: «It's all about the Process»

MEMORIAM: John Hughes, Les Paul, Eunice & Ted

MODERN TEXT:

Later that same night...it was PETE who drofe me

home to the new Place, and it was the first he'd heard

of it. [some know, some don't know] Overmore, PETE

is one of those most trusted persons who can ring me

up at the Shack to check my situation. Which is to say

that i count more Friends among my Customers than

those who mark it the same amongst themselves.

There's a sign at the Liberry which reads,«Shoes and

Shirts must be Worn» It schtrikes me funny acause all

the shoes and shirts i wear to that building are worn,

well=worn! There might could oughta well come the day

when i schtroll in there with shiny new boots and a

fresh cleaned silk shirt--and then i'd get throwed out.

Yet~mostly 'cos it don't say nuffin 'bout wearing Pants.

>to be continued, kallikak-slak