Intro

O full-orb'd moon, did but thy rays

Their last upon mine anguish gaze!

Beside this desk, at dead of night,

Oft have I watched to hail thy light:

Then, pensive friend! o'er book and scroll,

With soothing power, thy radiance stole!

In thy dear light, ah, might I climb,

Freely, some mountain height sublime,

Round mountain caves with spirits ride,

In thy mild haze o'er meadows glide,

And, purged from knowledge-fumes, renew

My spirit, in thy healing dew!

Goethe: Faust I.

Saturday, January 19, 2002

Where do I live?

I don't know what neighborhood I live in. Could be Park Slope, could be Boerum Hill, could be "Gowanus"? What I do know, or at least think, is that I'm going to San Francisco tomorrow. Maybe more precisely I'm going to Berkeley. Then again, my contact suggested that we'll leaving right from the airport. Seems he hasn't given the old William Tell routine a shot yet. I wouldn't consider him an expert marksman, by ay means, so the W.T. seems to be a perfect remedy.

As this particular agent is assigned or has taken up the assignment of leading the way in the arts of auto-medicine, it seems the prescription of a benzodiazepine has been overlooked in his palate of self-treatment options.

We're looking for the Hot Springs I think. Hopefully we can steam the demons out.
Published by G. Etranger at 12:00 AM

No comments:

Post a Comment

Say what you will.

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)