west and east for all I know.
My window points in one direction.
A man stood upright and walked
out of Africa, or so I am told.
Georgia, maybe, or some place cooler.
Nudging north, a step behind his hard on.
In the reign of beasts whole continents
migrated this way and that. Tectonic
plates riding the mantle. Fire. Brimstone.
Sulfur and ash.
Breaking in pieces like so much crockery.
Well. Not to make a mountain out of a
molehill, but this migration leaves me with
little to toast. A change of URL and not
much else. I haven't moved any in the last
three days; grocery shops and tobacco stops.
Progress comes in incremental degrees.
Cheesy Swarf in the mail and idle pickings.
4 comments:
During the Christmas break some friends and I ended up watching the dvd of Bukowski's show in Vancouver '79. We were drinking beer, scotch, rye, wine, vodka and absinthe repectively. I had shitfacedly watched the show once before, without company. It was a lot better with company every bit a bombed as I was. The motherfucker was the best American writer ever. Luckily, for us Canadians, we still have Paul St. Pierre. Chimo.
I haven't seen that show.
A damn sight better to watch - with or without company - over the yuletide descent into purgatory. Better than most things. Absinthe, eh ?
I imbibed once in some illicit Potteen which was a gift from Ireland. White Lightning. A sip or two of that stuff and I was walking unconscious for two to five minutes at a time. Suddenly sober again and standing slack-jawed in the rain. Waiting at a bus stop.
I see St. Pierre is the first Canuck to be honoured by the Western Writers of America Spur Award, whatever the fuck that is. There are huge gaps in my understanding of events and grasp of literary matters.
I have never read Paul St. Pierre, I don't believe. Of course, that could just as easily be down to the Poteen.
Well. This migration cost me all of $10. The domain has to renewed annually. So far as I can gather, the main benefit seems to be that I now own my posts rather than Google, although they continue to host them. Free of charge.
I considered switching to Word Press, but it appears rather costly. Besides, too many tricks for an old dog to learn in one sitting. This migration was largely automatic.
Not that you were asking.
Paul St. Piere's award is the highest honour given to non-hockey playing Canadians.
Well, alright. It occurs to me that polo is pretty much like hockey on horseback. Spurred by an elitist disregard for participants on two legs.
Something of an untapped market for puck farmers camped up in the frozen wastes.
It occurs to me too I am never going to find time to catch up on all the shit I ought to. I must be reading the wrong newspaper or something.
That reminds me. You might have heard this one before.
Q: What has four legs and a cunt half way up its back ?
A: A police horse.
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