THE HIDDEN TRACK

The following passages are dedicated to Leopold, to the vernacular, to certain evil women (you know who you are), to certain wonderful people(they know who they are), to soft afternoons and quiet Sunday evenings, to Fall and seeing your breath for the first time since Spring, and to Isabelle Ya Feng ... a soul slipped by like two ships passing in the still, moonlit sea.
-- Abraham Ahmed, the Surfing Beatnik



A Friday of Streaming Pause...

A crowd of a hundred lost minds fills the narrow, moonlit city street with sounds and smells and movement and life.

Standing amongst the ladies dressed in attire unfit for usual routine,
the men sporting half unbuttoned shirts,
the bums asleep in doorways,
the whores waiting,
the stale beer being swept into an alleyway...

I am found in this sea and I will most certainly cave and comply and act on false instinct of right.

Tonight, though only tonight, I will turn to the
beckoning grain and seek out cotentment elsewhere.

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