ages ago, when i was pedalling my ass off across the country (god, sounds like Fred Garvin, Male Prostitute), one of DudleyWakamatsu's buddies caught up with us around Missoula, Montana. he was another one with the saturnine wit. "it always looks like you've just discovered the source of the Nile." that's when i quit the Napoleon jive of slipping my fingers between the buttons of my shirt, gazing unfocused at wastelands eastward. now, i could blatantly cop the whole "denial" analogy... but i guess i did, already. anyway, the Queen is back. and i'm starting to pack up... mentally. physically, it'll start with paring down my wardrobe for easier manuverability (i think i could cover Manhattan in t-shirts). the satin smoking jacket with the embroidered Chinese dragons, i'll keep. cleaning up the mountain of unfinished projects scattered around la casa, also in the works. it helps that i've finally done another Frankensteinian revival of the air compressor: which, at turns, has required replacement and polishing of all the electrical bits, nearly had me burn down the house, and curse the proverbial "tapestry floating somewhere over Lake Michigan." but now, i gotta paint something. add colour instead of removing it. i gotta tag something. no denial. oh, yeah... this guy was watching me from the crotch of the mimosa tree, while i was reassembling: |
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