July 2006 Archives

My Oakland pot dealers roll cocaine blunts at 10 am on Thursdays. I would never want to offend Wendie Ann, but her glass bubbler is my hostage and I have a pill flask of medicinal for these next days. We crammed Emily Strange leopard printed legwarmers into her mailbox after being canned from the warehouse the other day. We were kissing and being too pleasant, so there was no more work for us. We did scream and scare all the movers. So we went to Wendie's house on Martin Luther King BLVD and I stood in the front-yard dirt square on Anton's lowrider bike while Michael pushed the garments into the mailbox on her front portch. These two dudes were standing on the sidewalk, one guy said, "They put tubes in me and I fell asleep and when I woke up, I didn't have a grill." He smiled all gums.

I woke up this morning and had breakfast at the fish taco truck on International next to Sianola. I did realize how the lips are much more tender in the morning and the jalapeno is too spicy. I saw one man put a quarter-bottle of ketchup into a styrofoam ceviche. I saw some behaved children, some wicked ones. The behaved ones were kind of homely.

People are racing drag on 10th Avenue, I'm here at 755, it's past 10 pm, and the fireworks sound like budding. I saw the very old Asian lady who collects plastic bottles, I saw her at the swap meet today and then I happened to follow her later, down 9th Street, I think. She stopped at the corner of 6th Avenue and left her cart and then walked into a sandy flowerbed, right next to the busy street, and peed discreetly, showing her butt but covering her front with her straw hat. I wish you really could swap at the Laney College swap meet, then I would drop off that ugly greenish Spanish-made 1970s sundress in a trade for a candy bowl or a ring for Meghan on her birthday. I could just give her the dress, but that dress is not so great, not even worth shoplifting. I was with Shana in Brooklyn when I bought that dress.

I am here at 755 East 10th street and there is nobody else home and it's all dark. I played clarinet in the darkness earlier and then I offended the sax with my practice. I am drinking cocoa and coco juice and rum and it's all quiet here and I know that in order to be all alone in this house, everybody else has to be playing shows so I am missing all the shows to hear the house settle. More fireworks outside but I am listening to Ralph and Florian so I just see the squeezes.

I miss Farah, she was once my best friend and now I can't find her, even the Internet is no help.