Rainy Saturday. I feel dizzy, Sumatran dark roast won't fix me. Old men sit outside on the benches and yawn, erudite or bemused? It's impossible to tell.
Ballzack and Odoms watch Youtube videos of themselves on their blackberries, in between free styles a la jay and silent bob. Ur, except double the Jay. Is that what this is? Illusion of a sophisticated hang, because of Amsterdam and the French salon? But really, no different from the stoop or the Quicky Mart. I want to ask them what rhymes with "the girl in the overalls," but hope it's already come to them. Slacker musicians rise late, dabble in notepads. What's with the Ole Miss grad in pink polo loud on the phone trading stocks? Smudged fresco of horses arace, but nobody studies the bill here. Rue de la Course and Fair Grinds get it wrong, though Degas would've painted it so. Boredom looms at the track around the corner, believe me. Internet's down and it's just as well, so insouciant I am with my words.
How do the dogs feel, to measure their lives in coffee spoons?
1 comment:
there is nothing remotely regional about the term crustache!
prospero año.
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