A balmy day before Christmas - Location: Maude's Cafe, the known center of the universe - One Pabst Blue Ribbon in hand / The 'Punk of Beers'.
Red dog here, Dan Kahn's friend, scratching the fleas and keenly observing by all senses the other dogs. He's eating bugs out of the air, love bugs. Chomp! Chomp! Scratch. Looks like the life to me.
An enthusiastic round of applause for the poems. Louder, maybe they'll come out to play.
A kind of r&b disco music plays over the loudspeakers. Very 70s with a bit of a BeeGees frosting. Lyrics are, "Naaaaa naaaaa naaaaa." Very easy to sing. Phil Godwin is in a hoody reading something subversive...it's got a picture of a guy with devil horns...trying to read the name: Looks like "Beet Patton Lies". I ask Phil, "Hey Phil, what's the name of that book?"
Phil: "Bret Easton Ellis - Imperial Bedrooms."
That's not "Beet Patton Lies" at all. Phil tells me it's all about Cocaine and Hollywood. I really enjoy one of these.
Dan is writing a press release for Galileo of Gainesville, an artistic dramatic piece he's directing at the Acrosstown Repertory Theatre. Many of the collaborators on this piece are homeless street people. Should be a good show. It already is.
I'm wondering about these love bugs...none of them are fucking. They are just flying around solo, dropping one-way into wine and coffee drinks...dropping to their death. Ah, love at Christmas time.
A car slows down and there are a bunch of redneck suburbanites looking at us like they are in a drive-thru zoo. I imagine shitting on the hood of their car and putting on an animal performance, something they can take home with them. They pass along. I'm not in the cage, they are. It's not a drive-thru zoo and we are the animals. It's an animal parade with cages on wheels that go by, and we can admire the lions, bears, and monkeys.
I prefer the roach.
--TM
Red dog here, Dan Kahn's friend, scratching the fleas and keenly observing by all senses the other dogs. He's eating bugs out of the air, love bugs. Chomp! Chomp! Scratch. Looks like the life to me.
An enthusiastic round of applause for the poems. Louder, maybe they'll come out to play.
A kind of r&b disco music plays over the loudspeakers. Very 70s with a bit of a BeeGees frosting. Lyrics are, "Naaaaa naaaaa naaaaa." Very easy to sing. Phil Godwin is in a hoody reading something subversive...it's got a picture of a guy with devil horns...trying to read the name: Looks like "Beet Patton Lies". I ask Phil, "Hey Phil, what's the name of that book?"
Phil: "Bret Easton Ellis - Imperial Bedrooms."
That's not "Beet Patton Lies" at all. Phil tells me it's all about Cocaine and Hollywood. I really enjoy one of these.
Dan is writing a press release for Galileo of Gainesville, an artistic dramatic piece he's directing at the Acrosstown Repertory Theatre. Many of the collaborators on this piece are homeless street people. Should be a good show. It already is.
I'm wondering about these love bugs...none of them are fucking. They are just flying around solo, dropping one-way into wine and coffee drinks...dropping to their death. Ah, love at Christmas time.
A car slows down and there are a bunch of redneck suburbanites looking at us like they are in a drive-thru zoo. I imagine shitting on the hood of their car and putting on an animal performance, something they can take home with them. They pass along. I'm not in the cage, they are. It's not a drive-thru zoo and we are the animals. It's an animal parade with cages on wheels that go by, and we can admire the lions, bears, and monkeys.
I prefer the roach.
--TM
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