A REAL MESS
(but, whatever)
I broke my arm pitching on opening day -
nothing's been the same since. My old apartment
in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, back when I had it,
was pretty hip and just on the cusp of gentrification.
Jubilation. Genuflection. Introspection. All the
Brooklyn barroom shit, now gone to hell.
-
Listening to Scriabin on the CD player, all my
mind wants to do is remember : 'where'd I park?'
There's also a place near here called 'Weird Eye
Park'. Figure that out - old guys always ogling
young girls. That's how it got its name. Like
'Needle Park', back in the 60's and 70's of 1900.
Anybody remember that? As in 'Panic In Needle
Park'. Al Pacino, I think. Not near as good, to
me, as 'Basketball Diaries', with Jim Carroll -
who wrote the book - in the movie as well.
But, whatever.
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