Blame it On the Rain-- Yeah Yeah.
Five years ago when I announced I was moving to Portland, OR my friends and family living in the NYC tri-state area told me not move the Pacific Northwest because it rains all the time there. As I watch the animals in Prospect Park march two by two toward an ark I'm so glad I moved back to sunny New York City.
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Jack and I had a fight today, it got ugly and I actually thought we might break up. He wants me to move into his place. I'm not ready for that step, I'm too broke and creatively directionless. Yadda Yadda. Maybe I'll post the transcript of the fight later. Jack and I have stenographer present at all times so that not one moment of our time spent together is lost. This way when one of us dies the other can emerse themselves in our magnificent past. Pretty clever, heh?
Anyway we had this fight and I thought we might break up. My mind raced. I saw myself angry and crying for a couple of months refering to him as that "Lanky Hungarian Fuck." Then one evening I'd feel restless and head into a bar to drown my sorrows. As I walk into the bar I notice there's a commotion. A circle of patrons surround a drunken ruffian harassing a lanky gentleman. I hear the lanky fellow say, "Listen, man I just want a drink." It's Jack. I push my way through the circle of onlookers. I arrive just in time to intercept the ruffian's punch. I block the incoming assualt, throw a quick kick to the ruffian's knee, apply an arm bar that enables me to drag the dude to the floor, throw another kick to his rib cage saying, "Don't touch him." I turn around and flee the bar. I don't want Jack to see me crying because beating up a ruffian is exhausting and upsetting. As is seeing your ex-boyfriend.
Jack follows me out and finds squatting at the side of building weeping. He kneels down on the filthy sidewalk--love cares not about bacteria or urine-- and he puts his arm around me. "I'm sorry I say." He replies, "I'm sorry too." He envelops me in his arms and kisses my temple. We walk silently to the Q train knowing all is forgiven and our love is forever.
Luckily, we didn't break-up, because with the city genetrifying like it is ruffians are harder and harder to find. And, without a ruffian how is anyone supposed to make-up with their ex-boyfriend?
No, I'm not moving in with Jack. Not yet.
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Jack and I had a fight today, it got ugly and I actually thought we might break up. He wants me to move into his place. I'm not ready for that step, I'm too broke and creatively directionless. Yadda Yadda. Maybe I'll post the transcript of the fight later. Jack and I have stenographer present at all times so that not one moment of our time spent together is lost. This way when one of us dies the other can emerse themselves in our magnificent past. Pretty clever, heh?
Anyway we had this fight and I thought we might break up. My mind raced. I saw myself angry and crying for a couple of months refering to him as that "Lanky Hungarian Fuck." Then one evening I'd feel restless and head into a bar to drown my sorrows. As I walk into the bar I notice there's a commotion. A circle of patrons surround a drunken ruffian harassing a lanky gentleman. I hear the lanky fellow say, "Listen, man I just want a drink." It's Jack. I push my way through the circle of onlookers. I arrive just in time to intercept the ruffian's punch. I block the incoming assualt, throw a quick kick to the ruffian's knee, apply an arm bar that enables me to drag the dude to the floor, throw another kick to his rib cage saying, "Don't touch him." I turn around and flee the bar. I don't want Jack to see me crying because beating up a ruffian is exhausting and upsetting. As is seeing your ex-boyfriend.
Jack follows me out and finds squatting at the side of building weeping. He kneels down on the filthy sidewalk--love cares not about bacteria or urine-- and he puts his arm around me. "I'm sorry I say." He replies, "I'm sorry too." He envelops me in his arms and kisses my temple. We walk silently to the Q train knowing all is forgiven and our love is forever.
Luckily, we didn't break-up, because with the city genetrifying like it is ruffians are harder and harder to find. And, without a ruffian how is anyone supposed to make-up with their ex-boyfriend?
No, I'm not moving in with Jack. Not yet.
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