Monday, September 22, 2008

Losing is easy

I should write this down before I forget. Grass in Australia is flat and broad, sort of like little leaves poking up towards the hole in the ozone layer. I sat on it once, speaking Spanish then listening Portuguese, there was a lot of blushing and gesticulation. My head was swollen from that sign post I hit the night before; we were waiting for something, maybe for Meghan to get off work. She had a three month stint at a bar in the arcade. We waited in Veterans’ Park by the pedestrian scramble and the long line of old and twisted trees. Not sure what they were called. Later Danni would have an allergic reaction to aspirin by one. Maps in Sydney didn’t work; I had a room and it as over that hill, that’s all I knew. Took a bus once, and would never again, Bondi beach was great, nude surfing and cops in thongs, but that walk back through Kings Cross was terrible. Not terrible, just long, even without our delays trying to haggle a few Victoria Bitters from a tranny. Never take a bus.



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