journey

there is this fellow in the Netherlands who keeps sending me photos of
Celine and marvelous boxes of
cigars.
well, I    am a dog:    I enjoy both.
the cigars go well with my red wine and I never tire of Celine or his
photos–a very good face on that fellow Louis Ferdinand Destouches.
we have some famous writers whose faces look like the insides of
bedpans and they write the same way.

I like to play:    some nights I have nights of Celine photos, classical
music, cigars, red wine and the
typewriter.

Celine looks at me as I drink, type, listen to the music and smoke the
cigars, we have a great time together as other people are bowling,
sleeping, watching tv, arguing, screwing, eating, doing all those
dumb things and others

but now here
the words fly like crazy sparrows in a storm, Shostakovich bellows, as
the cigar smoke whirls to the left and outside the door and into the
night as the red wine, the blood of the gods enters me

hello Celine…  Celine…  you dog…  we piss the pain of centuries…
but we can laugh…   sometimes…   how fast the bottle empties…
among your photos…   the dark luck is good.