Monday, August 3, 2015


The catwalk was covered with models thin enough
to be saltines. Girls looked gaunt, and the boys looked
like girls. No stretch of the imagination there. Whatever
happens happens. If I had wanted to be arraigned for
starvation, I could have been : needle-marks and the
traces of heroin and cocaine could be found 'neath the
lid. Those people sitting in the front rows, they only
pretend at adulation : you see, please understand, they're
really vultures set out to pick and kill off one another;
hawks, hunters, robbers and thieves. Fashion has a
spindle-soul hereabouts, if you'd even wish to 
call it that. The Mexican cantina next door is
catering this crud. Why, I'll never know.

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