Had to say no, we only have one John Fante book, and never read a Burroughs poem in my life. Top of my mouth burnt cause I'm gluttonous like that.
A psycho babble coming back all boomerang and shit it felt familiar, forgot the feeling, of expression but more vile like vomit.
You speech patterns you bus time you favor bizarre meals your orbital planets believe in making gardens that you ignore.
Two kids hid in a forest. Detectives constantly behind your shoulders talking you can't tell who's who.
All of the world lives in L.A. and the arrival soon of winter.
this is lovely. a slice of a close friend's life. i feel you may have done the best anyone can do in summing up what daily life is in a month. yaknow?
ReplyDeletethank you my friend. and i like what you said "summing up what daily life is in a month". perhaps i would journal better if I attempted to do so about my month, not my days.
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