6 Vertigo encouraged; cult of the gang, as bad as it looked, 8 out of 10 for me; moment of dispersion, off and waiting for the anti-godot. I think she was (many of them) still waiting for the accident; bike still locked up. Actually we, or I would have been happy to try again while some idiot figure, still in the void, like those old tv sets, switch off and down to a dot of light the exploded into nothing: and bing...a guy in a tie; in the mean time the old copa-cabana problem loom as I chased my own thoughts not sure in they were my own, vision of some characters in glasses meticulously cuing a 45 over and over again while times himself came to mind; a clump of bodies was all I perceived out of the periphery; damn, that was punk. Hadn't quite crossed the dart with the right band of silver; already got what they wanted; girl walking in a square and then a tie swinging in; not too much traffic; got my smokes while this figure, a persona in my pocket, just in case, apexed not to tightly with a secret agent of not good but another fallen sun king; looked down the alley: I let my mind wander; bad memories - all I had. "I guess this one is for you." he said. "how much?" "Nah... my uncle gave it to me." "Run?" "nah...sure you don't want it?" "How much? "Not for sale...keeping it ..still sort of belongs to him - sure you don't want..." I let a cigarette and walked off thinking of a way to write to or around what I guess was miss x, one of mom's finest, even helped her out once as they said in the detective novels; tempting to think big, drifting through my mind went a disaster film...a torn up runway and a lounge and a mounted talking dog; I hoped I hadn't actually met that guy before for none the less; threads for the car deal I had stumbled into; trail of the visage of the waif appearing as she had above the alphabet apartment building in the morning seemed to emit now from the proud pick up owner, some customized dodge, too long in the rear.
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