Vignettes

I
In the event of any postal threat that you may have recieved, I would advise you to go to the Sierra Madre mountains. There is a little sign there that says "Beware, here be rattlesnakes." But don't be despirited. A regular humdinger if there was one, and make no mistake its a sign that I put up myself, as a well respected and concientous protector of peace, it is my solemn duty to inform the misplaced postal bureau that only if one exercises one's imagination can the red letter day come calling. Man I'm drunk.

II
It was dark, and the rain hadn't let up. Maggie called about an hour back, saying the baby needed some food. Shit. What world is this, where I can't get an hour's peace, never mind a drink. Something moved at the end of the alley. Can't be a cat. Cats hate rain. And it was something bigger. There it is again. I can't see too good because of the fucking rain, and there's no light. I walk on, a little warily. You can't trust Boston alleys, even if you've grown up there. Them fucking Irish bastards.

III
It was a little late in the day for apologies. I wanted him, and I wanted him bad. I wanted to make him bleed, to smash my boots down on his stinky rotten face and twist my heels. I wanted to hear him scream and drown them out with my own. I wanted all the hurt to go rushing at him like a bullet..a bullet as big as a building. All the blood in the world cannot satisfy this stink. Why this anger? Why? Motherfucker.

IV
I wonder what those flowers are called. Mother never told me. Or maybe she did and I've forgotten. All those years ago.Wang Wei, "Idly I watch Cassiopa flowers fall." What are cassiopas? I always imagined them to be white. I always pictured Wang Wei at dusk or at dawn. Light and dark. The drifting song of the water chestnut pickers as they wander home. What is home? That could be my home, though I've never been to China. I imagine the people living in the forgotten hills. Wang Wei says that you can only get there by following the grove of peach tree blossoms. And that too only if the forgotten land wants you to enter.

V
Welcome to Xanadu Station on 102.5 Night Time Radio FM with me Beq B. Tonight I've got for you The Beatles and Bob Dylan, John Coltrane and Satchmo, Memphis Minnie and the Dixietown Five. I got 'em as I like 'em, without labels and fully fancy free. Tonight we got no themes, but what we got is hurt. Yes my friend, what hurts can't be bad. It reminds you of the reason you're living, and the reason why you can't chuck what you're doing out of the window and follow it. Tonight I got songs that hurt, that ache till you can't breathe; songs that hurt so much that you smile. Here's Skip James with Hard Time Killing Floor Blues.

VI
Ever been to Benaras? I was there once, long ago, when I was in college. There was a light on that town that I never saw again. Sort of like sepia, only deeper, if you know what I mean. Of course, I can never say for sure, as I can't name colours too well. But it was there all the same. And the river. Ah my friend the river was holiest river I ever saw. No no, of course I don't believe in all that, but the thought of the Ganga flowing past the steps of that city makes me close my eyes and sigh. You know what, my most tangible memory of the place is an imagined one. About a storm on the river, a wild apocalyptic storm that I never actually saw. Makes you wonder huh? Memories.