all around you

"I was on this bed and there were bars in the headboard and I fumbled around with the bars- the bed must have been half a century old... how many bodies had it slept? how many had died?
my fingers found hardened cakes of gum, I stretched there on that lumpy mattress and flicked off the hardened cakes of long-stopped chewing, it was like peeling away the agonizing indecencies of that space between the birth of those bodies and what had finally become of them...
a flake playing with flakes..."
-bukowski

-that curvy bit of Spenard becoming I Street. you know, by the lagoon, where you probably speed.
-same place, west-er.
-I keep taking indulgent self-portraits because I love realizing that I look cross-eyed and vexed in EVERY PICTURE. this is the scarf I knitted yesterday while it was slow at work. I wore it home. good thing, 'cause it was cold.
-6th & E.
-Spenard.