i knew better, the road was too narrow to turn around, but i tried anyhow, and the front wheels of the van wound up in the ditch... i thought i could probably back out of it, but the van kept going, slowly, and dislodged a log from the retaining wall in front of the house where the store was.
the woman said, "get those surveyors' stakes and put tape up around the scene." and we did that... she moved the store to its winter quarters in the mall and did a land-office business.
the group session was a failure, the shrink disgraced, and the group left and scattered in relief, except she stayed with me... i told her to take her mask off, a boutique thing, custom designed in red, white and blue, over her forehead and eyes, expensive....she peeled it off and started crying, and said, "i'm not wrecked! ...i want you, stephen!" as if that proved something, and my heart sank.
the storekeeper said, "it's good fishing in that riffle below johnoson's hole."
there's a celtic tune called "road to lisdoonvarna"... i cant find a decent version of it.
it's a powerful tune when it's not being played by college pansies in suits, and you got to wonder why it's being ignored... probably one of those "jews vs druids" things.
at least the druids have had enough sense to hide out until the oily dust settles.
i was standing on the platform, waiting for a train, dressed in a cheap white shirt, cheap black pants and a black tophat.
the kind of clothes worn by temp food service workers in las vegas.
the engine had a ledge on the front, narrow, but you could stand on it... no handholds, and the ledge was so narrow that center of gravity was a problem... the train wasnt moving that fast, but as it went around a corner, i could feel the centrifugal force pulling at me, and i was afraid of falling off.
then i woke up, and wondered why, in the dream, i wasnt afraid of a sudden stop, that would have pitched me off onto the tracks, where i'd be run over by the engine.
it used to be that maybe one line in a song would convince you that the songwriter knew what was going on, but they had to disguise the song... it had to be a love song
the songwriters, in those days, were as young as taylor swift is now.
i dont want to jump to any conclusions, but
.
if we're terminally hitched to jewish philosophy, we're losers
seems unlikely that thoughtful songwriters are unaware of that.