Communicator, cooker, drinker, poet. Grew up in a mining town, wore a hard hat.

Saturday, July 01, 2006

i saw a prostitute

as i was riding in a taxi cab, on my way home. she was wearing very short pink shorts and i didn't see much else, save for a mane of permed blonde hair. i went to a party tonight, on queen west west, as it's called. that's where i took the taxi from. i don't remember what the venue was called but it was special. three floors: the main one had performances and djs and things, the second was mostly empty, except for a black poodle, and the third was a rooftop patio. there were funny wooden tile things on the patio, pretending to make a dance floor, but they were crooked and dangerous. kind of like me. laugh. dave called me with the inviatation. it'd been a while since i'd seen him. last time was at the art gallery of ontario. milne and gehry. he'd had a long night. i'd had a long day. and he sold a painting tonight! i was so proud, so happy for him. what a feeling to have someone offer you money for your talents and time. sleep is creeping up my spine with soft steps. i shall retire, i think. i worry, but needn't. things are as they are. i am as i am. not much more i can do, but sleep.

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