(written-first posted July 2014) guess I am sort of a prophet
– running down the stairs and out the door and bopping into a store for cigs, booze, coffee – as I did a moment ago, around half past five in the morning, and if I’d been in the mood for some breakfast cognac or scotch, I could’ve sated it and brought home a bottle of hard liquor to accompany my smoke and my coffee and these words and the awakening day the twittering sparrows are announcing at this moment…. our next destination shall be completely different. Might be plenty pretty songbirds to sing about a new day, but there will be no running out the door and down the street for a few steps and grabbing smokes or booze or rubbers, because the world we are bound for keeps these things spread far and wide though I hear wine and beer can be bought from grocery stores.
– the towering…
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