I was sitting under a bridge supporting the Trans Canada Highway on large rectangular slabs of cement on a cool night in August with an abandoned house near by beside the crazy bastard from Newfoundland i had been hitching with eating an apple and getting ready to sleep so i could head back out onto the road at sunrise the next morning.
I was sitting on a couch playing a song about a teacher i’d had in Highshool being videotaped and hugged by my girlfirend at the time, all i remember is being too drunk to see my hands and passing out on a cot with no matress, just springs.
I was sitting on a park bench in Clagary by the train tracks and the homeless shelter with a french guy named Frank who was drinking a bottle of Lime Cooler. “Lemon and Lime” he said, pausing to let out a burp which resounded aginst the low Albertan sky line, the setting sun, the clouds bathed in gold and the quiet of a Sunday evening, “that is fuckin’ good”. I believe he ment it.
The next day i was sitting in a bus station when someone started screaming in the mens room, i went to see what was happening, it was a homeless man i’d passed on the way in. I got him a coffee and some smokes. He didn’t seem to think anything was the matter.
I was laying on a solid cold flat table, a nurse had tured on Paul Simon’s Graceland CD, Boy in the Bubble played through once, then was repeated. Another nurse put a mask over my face and said “take a deep breath”. I was out for about 7 hours. When i was concious enough for them to take the tube that was allowing me to breathe out my first words were “Did ja bring the Rum?”. Mom was so proud.
We were in a school yard play ground last winter, i was playing my guitar as fiercly as possible while my friend belted out the words to “Halloween” - possibly the creepiest song i’ve ever heard. We were both pretty fried and i found my self mildly amused by the fact that my fingers felt like wax from the cold. A funny looking guy was walking by as my friend hit the “My love, my love, my love, tell me are you satisfied with fucking!?” part. He started to run.
I saw a drunk duck once. Quacks are all the more funny when they’re slurred.
Sleeping in the basement of a Catholic girls house. There was a huge sharp broken spring in the very center of the bed. I sat up and read a book of Poe’s poetry for a while. For the rest of my night my dreams were filled with ravens who would poke me in the ass rather then say anything useful. I woke up feeling at odds with the planet in general.
Maybe that’s enough for now. Fell free to join in.
reminded me of flashes from a bad (or really good depending on your p.o.v. ;)) road trip. Loved it!!!