I have decided to revert back to a summer look I rocked for a while, that of the young male hustler. It mainly revolves around white jeans. I will have to ditch the bonnet, the bonnet throws it off.
Nora and I saw A HAWK from the porch, she told me it is an omen and a good one at that.
I think she is shitting me.
Everything is getting better all the time, I do not need that hawk for proof.
I woke up this morning and knew the truth. At first it made my gut feel like I got shot up with some lead acorns, then it felt like well rationed joy. It was like how on Van Morrison's Band and Street Choir side one ends with "I'll Be Your Lover, Too" and it's almost too much to take, all the space in that song, it is like he is singing to an empty room, to a girl that ain't even there, and he knows, esp. when he the gtr just gets half strummed and he sings "Reach out for me" -- the song is bereft, bleak, Van alone in the darkness and you are indicted just by listener proxy, sitting there going "this is too heavy" and you flip over the record wondering where the fuck can it go from here and it's "Blue Money" which is this fat roly poly good-times song, real New Orleans frolick feel and r&b valentines horns, someone's drunk party girl singing back too confidently behind him, everything wild and uncareful as it's very self.Posted by Jessica at February 19, 2006 03:52 PM | TrackBack