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There is a hole in my wall…
I didn’t make it
It wasn’t here when I left for California
It was here when I returned
My house-sitters plead innocent
But there was no one else here
Sometime it’s hard to trust…
And will the hole generate a rat?
No hidden box of childhood secrets in there either…
No magic world…
Just plaster mites.
After client
1 am
Hungry!
Want Thai
But none
Yelp points me
To some closed middle eastern joint
I walk back from 8th to 7th on 28th
Huge lines waiting to get into clubs
Between two of them
Soul Fixin’s
: a place like I’ve seen on brooklyn or queens…
Dead AC above the door
Cardboard on either side
Dirty yellow paint on the walls
But back inside by the counter
It’s chic, manhattan style
Bright white tent things . . .
The sweet potatoes were amazing
Collards
Jerk and fried chicken
Fucki’mstuffed
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Well…
I’ve got clients
I’m on the go
Things are happening outside
I feel
Mortmain
May as well keep them in my pockets
Making money
Under investigation
Hole in the wall…
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We’ll only rest when we get home
Or
go
go
go
A Canadian friend of mine is meeting me half way in Toronto
(he’s from the NWT)
I’ll be with him 3 days…
Then I hope to spend a few days on my own exploring the city
And meeting some of the people I’ve known on the interweb…
16th to…
Sent from an iPhone
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Night out at Figleaf
Three days of fruit fasting
Ended with birthday dinner of duck
Cocktails
Cake
Salvia
Sauna
Omletes
Tableaux
Now now now
On the way home
Days of clients…
3 today
But of course:
On yesterdays luscious offering
I prayed for work
Like we prayed for rain
Abundance all the same
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