One never expects love She always descends in such inappropriate places Soft, dulcet–smooth some kind, caramel–honey Pouring into my ears So low–down every murderous word tender I bike against the flow of traffic futilely thumbing for her to raise her voice cursing the onslaught of society
Month: April 2010
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The first time I allowed myself to see beauty in every being was the first time the universe smiled upon me in the knowing smile of a woman I stopped planting my feet to steady my bike as she crossed the street the air applauding with a chorus of strings from a idle car’s stereo I gazed she pondered, puzzled then she saw and smiled knowing
About Time for Rain
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Bogart is being interviewed by Brando in a bathroom.
He tells Brando, “Careful not to get pooh on my suit”
Brando lays Bogart’s suit across the toilet seat. In a quiet gesture of menace, he gently presses it down. One tiny spot of pooh touches the breast pocket.
Enraged, Bogart manhandles Brando: he stuffs him in the toilet and flushes him down. You can here the explosion of pipes downstairs in the busy kitchen.
Bogart and his compadre are outside, about to take off. They debate whether to kill “stupid”, referring to me, for getting Brando to do that to the suit.