flowing like poetic wine

Tomorrow Jeff leaves for Japan. Today I’m to meet up with him at Joe’s for 2, thus continuing my ‘hitting the Drive every day’ pattern. One week down. Yesterday I just squeaked in a visit by going to Wazubi’s for food after Rasputina.  I really think I need to move back there.  I talked to Chetan yesterday and hassled him to put the board back up at Sweet Cherabim.  It’s the place to find the sort of room for rent adverts that I answer. I hope friendship is enough leverage to move that rock.  I need to live somewhere barefeet can go to buy groceries, where I’ve got some memories. Hackysack circles, water balloons, coffeeshop backrooms, concerts in the park, parades at night. Spinning fire and Brenda.  A list of names to tie me to. A list of days to make me free.

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