writing white
ten days ago i got on a train and found i had grossly underestimated california's aesthetic bounty. i watched the reflection of a man pick its nose and ears, furiously, for eleven hours, and then i walked through a beautiful train station into hideous los angeles. i saw a fella stalled by a beggar outside and then i lived with him for a week. we watched a whole chicken deep-fry in a back yard and we tried tiny beers. we watched a lot of movies. i slept late and showered long and it was much too easy to be a temporary girlfriend.
but boy, i learned a lot: it is possible to sponsor a manatee, but sometimes your manatee dies; there are three tiers of weed quality; when traveling down from the bay area, guides on the coast starlight like to wake you up with mysterious khrushchev trivia; what i diss at four hundred miles might be tolerable at four feet; rest stops are still magical places where a girl can jog round and round a car, holding an infant, hardly noticed.
but boy, i learned a lot: it is possible to sponsor a manatee, but sometimes your manatee dies; there are three tiers of weed quality; when traveling down from the bay area, guides on the coast starlight like to wake you up with mysterious khrushchev trivia; what i diss at four hundred miles might be tolerable at four feet; rest stops are still magical places where a girl can jog round and round a car, holding an infant, hardly noticed.