and how they seemed remarkably unfased by either the terrible poetry or the even worse music blasted into their ear drums.
not one thought to mention it. actually deranged.
me and sadmanbarty were smoking a fag outisde when we becasme aware of a disturbance in the force
emenanting from a downstairs italian resturaint, the wort resturaint in the world
there was a warping of the continuum, neither of us know what we felt but we
had to go down, and they tried to stop us coming in like it was a contamination zone
they said, no, no, senor but we muscled in and they gave us a red leather booth and there was a man
who, he'd somehow got the microphone, no one knew how
the staff disowned him, but he had a bow tie and white shirt buttoned up to the top
and the force of this lunatic carried its way up the stairs and over to me, to lap at my very shore
and me and sadmanbarty sat there' whooping, hollering applausing in a red leather romance
booth it was very, very interesting.
i learned so much today and was left with so much to think about.
there is a giant pulsating beam of serpant energy that comes from below and surges for ever to heaven
and we jump on and ride it
and leave a record of it, each little tap, and accent and inflection
which is what dance is
you can't learn to dance because it can only be the patterning of the Energy as it arises
which is why everyone know when youre really dancing and everyone knows what real writing is
i read very badly. but even in reading badly everyone understood the conception and the rhytmic impetus and said i was the best even better than shakespeare.
there was someone who appeared behind me and squeeed my trapezeoidal and said, whats your idea of pleasure. was wearing a lether collar and had a tattoo reading omen in a kind of barbed wire font. im not sure who it could have been
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