The Mass Transit situation here is thorny. Just when I think I have it licked, I hop on the F Train alongside two or three hipster Pratt students and start reading a few pages of that Jean Cocteau book Les Enfants Terribles (kind of sucks, but the line drawings make up for it—my favorite shows a villainous Parisian boy in a cloak and beret packing a snowball)-- Anyway, the next time I look up, the hipsters are gone. The car is packed like Amistad and smells like Peking Duck. I'm the ONLY male, the ONLY one under 60 years old, and most-notably, the ONLY one who isn't screaming in Korean.
Then the train speeds up to 100mph, and the next stop is named after an obscure US president, so you just know it’s dangerous. Suffice to say I was late for rehearsal… tho I did get a nice fake Rolex and a throw rug for $10.
That was last week... Yesterday I got on a Metra-North train going to Yonkers. Now, you don’t need a Lonely Planet guidebook to understand that a place with a name like Yonkers is gonna suck. “What’s in Yonkers,” you might ask? Great question, I still have NO fucking idea. I thought I was going to Westport.
The wind is ferocious off the Hudson this time of year… but I like it. Feels like the whole temperament of the city changes from Indian Summer to Nuclear Winter depending on which direction you’re walking. Good thing I stapled my toupee to my skull this morning.
Write u again when my hands thaw.
PS: a poem
Dinner Party NYC 2011 by MD
“You simply NEED to accompany me to this intimate dInner party.
There are some people you MUST meet. We can't be late.”
There's just enough time to pick up some overpriced wine.
My upper ass is sweating. I look like shit.
A private elevator opens to a penthouse
This is my friend, Mat. Mat, this is So-and-So #1.
“Very nice to meet you.”
Mat's in Superman, the musical.
Tre' fantastique! Are you...THE Spiderman?
“No.” “Great place.”
Merci, the owners are in Africa for a week.
There's a tree inside the loft. -a full-grown tree.
There's an echo.
The walls are covered with original art, a few of which I remember studying in school.
Mat, here comes So-and-So #2. Last we heard, he was getting kicked out of NYU for building an Ecstasy lab in his dorm room. Now he's a billionaire.
What. Is. Up. Bro.
Oh! And Mat... this is So-and-So #3! He's a ridiculous photographer.
He just spent 3 months hiking across the country, shooting images of roadkill.
"Mat. Not Max"
"Nothing. Nice to meet you."
There's something so... so… VISUAL about carcasses, don't you agree, Max?
"How could I not."
The cold geometry of the tire marks... the sensuous curves of the highway...
"Which carcass stood out as your favorite?"
This one deer-- a fawn- just outside El Paso. It was hit SO hard the entrails stretched for 100 yards in a PERFECT line.
"Stop, you're making me hungry."
Oh and Mat, THIS is So-and-So #4! He's ALSO a fine artist.
He just got back from Israel. He's going to the Congo tomorrow.
"The Congo... that’s dangerous isn't it?"
Not for whites. I plan to pose 9-year-old rebel-soldiers with their guns, and put gold Rayban sunglasses on them.
"Wow. That's possibly the most insensitive thing I've ever heard."
I KNOW. It should sell VERY well.
I walk to the bathroom and lock the door.
I text this boring poem to myself
There's a paperback biography of Botticelli next to the toilet.
I steal it for no reason.
I look at my shitty face in the mirror.
I spit in the toilet and flush it.
Sorry, what did you say your name was?
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