Tuesday, March 07, 2006
"This from a city of parks and whores?"
Thursdays you'll usually find me at Kavarna.com. By then
the bagels would have mounted up nicely
--- they've got a blind guy who sorts them,
after a fashion,
while listening to talking books; The Bride
Stripped Bare
was on the other day; embarrassing
doesn't begin to describe it
--- anyway, I just have to gesture with my stick
as I come by the counter
and the bagel-de-jour is plopped on the plate for me.
These days, they say, I've got a bit slow, so
if you do want to talk about some of the old stuff,
it's a good idea to send me a postcard first
with a title, maybe a couple of questions, and a
line diagram outline, like that thumb-print on your throat.
Bernard Lane
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What kind of schmuck writes this kind of thing? My kind of schmuck, it seems. One day, with your mind on something else, you release a child or two into the world. After that, there's no accounting where they'll turn up, drooling and jabbering.
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