back to letter 01.21.02

sometimes it's the best approach. lizard life. taking the events as i stroll by them. hearing sometimes just the sounds and ignoring the words. when it's german and the story is not new to me, then the conversation can be the rustling of the leaves. this can be very appropriate for watching the people coming and going.

we used to drive dundas st. in london. not often. sometimes we came up with better ideas. like eating a sub.

_duck stop_

vagina.

how many people are in secret societies. what's the big secret. that this is nowhere and we can do as we please.

in guyana, they told us, were seven women for every man. i find that hard to believe. i did see angels there. and fish and birds. and corruption. desperation. poverty. rivers and mountains. sun and rain.

remind me not to get involved in polotics. or whatever they call it. hot dogs and cool-aid for the kids. guns and oil for the parents.

we sold out too cheep. i think the contract is outdated. it's over. we forget. and start again when the sun bust into the morning once again. the birds always make such a big deal over it.

_duck stop_

the rain clouds have returned. it's saturday and i will likely do very little tonight. i'd like to have someone rap their legs around me and read a story. it wouldn't have to be a love story. an adventure would be fine. over the mountain to the valley floor. through the bog to an island where there stands an abandoned hut. the screen still good. frogs. spanish moss and crayfish traps.

and she pulled out a knife and for a second she is my terror. but i know she isn't and jump toward her feet so she can throw the knife at the bog creature behind me.

then, before i could piece together the madness of the events, we were over yet another range and were standing before a desert that stretched through the hot red horizon.

"we follow that shadow. there we can hide from the sun until night."

here it's pissing down rain, like it quite often does.

i may try to go until monday with no chocolate.

_duck stop_

moderation is the key to excess.

so alte. the sea is calling, i thought it was tinitus but it's the roar of the waves. buckaroo would say, wherever you go, there you are. which is philosophy enough. but speculating and calculating, that's in my blood. i've worked out some of the forgotten equations.

we make the difference. the rest is equal.



love john rah