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When I was 13, I had this fantasy house, a huge mansion, with lots of luxurious bedrooms, movie screening rooms, hottub rooms, swimming pool rooms--& all the girls I thought were attractive (which at 13 was pretty much all of them--hmmmm, I'm not sure how that's changed at all, really) walking around in t-shirts & underwear. My imagination was much cooler at 13, I think.
How about a small, quiet room, with nobody in it but me, nothing in it but a comfy bed & a copy of Gravity's Rainbow? So, i could finally plunk down & read them damn thing. That & Finnegans Wake.
Other favorite place-that-doesn't-exist: Danny the World. Strange shops that never close, weird cinemas & theaters, underground tunnels with steam trains, gargoyles with goofy grins--definitely my kind of place. (Yeah, I know--Danny the World does exist. It's this world, if only you vada it properly.)
Howabout a Cabaret Voltaire-type pub/coffeeshop/nightclub? Only because the I'm tired of poetry slams with lots of white people trying to be african-american & middle-aged men writing calm, quiet, sensitive poetry about how they want to schtup 18-year-old girls. |
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