A kind of a "dangerous supplement", marked, scarred on a body, post-orgasmically, always, already in anticipation of (a) crisis OR for a desert avec 'agape'. Mindb(l)ogg(l)ing Noise. "Avalanche, would you share my last pursuit?" (Baudelaire)

Saturday, October 16, 2004

not quite an elegy, but you're not dead yet

always post-pitta, the-day-after, early hours of the am (and by early i mean on a scale of 1 to 11) the phones ring and the hangover doesn't know which dem to curse first.

but the banamanas, blue frappes and "walking a lot as planned" (NB parking [w]here?) makes floundering in confusions and enikseros, enkatalavos not quite as bad. some people hop bars, some people hop countries, others hop hospitals trying to find cheesy people in their pockets. the rest of us are left in the middle [of the street], disorientated by the bright lights saying only i need to go home .

"men thoris tous kypreous, men tous thoris" "pou en to ttrrolleeii?" jai eksigate mou re intalos antexeste tous egglezous with their "do you have any MEAT?", valentines celebrations, Mister and Missus, in India we covered ourselves in vix, put on the humidifier, drank tea and didn't give a toss about the 50 degree celsius weather, what ho! the natives are a little slow, but well meaning, god bless the queen and a jolly good show, turning lobster red in the saintly napa sun.
(E- almost as bad as wearing socks with your birks).

mass of christ in paris, ombion party number 3?

Love, love, love,
Love, love, love,
Love, love, love,
Dooby dooby doo,
All you need is love,
Dooby dooby doo,
All you need is love, love
Or, failing that, alcohol.

Variation on a Lennon and McCartney Song, by none other, than Wendy Cope.

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