But that doesn't stop me thinking on the way to the pub and as I was thinking I thought that I might as well think about 'who is god' and stuff like that....
A black dog crossed my path. I did not stop however, I could smell the beer, but I did think: Is god any more important than that dog and if so, why?
I met up with the English emigre and bickered over a cigarette lighter which broke anyway and then we got into a conversation with a drunken mourner who wanted to know why Jimi Hendrix was more important than his dad... I am not making this up...
Suddenly there before me was the answer; knitted into a womans chest and back.
I personally think, having read Ginsberg's diaries, that the opposite might be true.
I'm going to get my ouija board out and ask Charles Bukowski!
No comments:
Post a Comment