Clipyn Rand
At the Beat Book Store On Pearl Street nothing has changed. A really pretty boy bought a dollar copy of Atlas Shrugged and of course got a fist full of Good Fucken Luck from Tom. I love that Tom, the man is a legend in his own right. The king of Pearl Street. The Mayor of Fuck It I'm A Beat Poet. I'm cornered with a bloody nose nodding like hell at the words "Poet" and" Idolatry", agreeing to things that should probably have me arrested on Mars?, eyeing the overpriced Duran Duran record and hoping that one of those new "Camp Kerouac" t-shirts can be won by reciting the only poem I've ever memorized: "sarah cynthia sylvia stout" by Mr. Silverstein. I have no idea what year it is. In third grade I dressed in a black garbage bag and recited it aloud under a hand painted Giving Tree. I wonder if I could recite it without the outfit? or how memory is so connected to objects. Like right now, you are still in the bath to me and maybe always will be. Coincidentally third grade was the same year I as sure I wanted to change my name to Crystal. yes, Crystal. I know man, I totally agree, I should have done it.
I'm at the Laughing Goat- The posh cafe that opened our last semester. Some obvi Tori Amos fan is all up in my WindHorse with her shrill piano odes to Arizona and if I don't punch myself in the face soon I'm sure to take a stranger out. This body babe--*BAM- BAM*. This body is on FIRE.
Naila Julaton
babe i wanted to change my name to Liz to get rid of the Fe somewhere around 3rd grade too! I remember Crystal was such a cool name.. totally--it so matched the Caboodle ;)
ReplyDelete