b ite the dust
u nderstand character
k now that he is
o n sky even under
w here still he
s educes literary freaks:
k now
i nfluence


click here for more
pics at buk's place

**strange things**

we dined
at Skewers
a gay café
along Santa Monica Blvd.
in west Hollywood
the entire town was
that way the
tiny place was dark
lit romantic dinner candles
centered
atop
plain white-paper’d tablecloth’d tables my
‘girlfriend’ and I tagged
along
with 2 gayguyfriends we
ordered drinks and
a medley of
kabobs the kabobs
had strange things I
didn’t recognize
pierced
through the rod of the skewer
in between every
other
chicken and filet mignon
piece of
meat
I didn’t eat
the strange things I
slid them off
the shaft
with my fork
slipped them across
the table
onto the plate
of one of
the gayguyfriends

I looked
around the café at
the paintings on the walls
the paintings on the walls were
mostly odd
abstract
flowers flowers
on canvas
then
we all looked and
none of us liked
the queer
flowers
in the pictures but
one painting
stuck out like a
hard-on
down
the other end
of the café even
in the dim light it
hung
proud like
a masters
piece the portrait
was a painting
of a naked man
crackled within
muscles a million
years
old

our gayguyfriends
wanted a shot and
I had my camera
and I walked
to the other end
near
the entrance
to the kitchen through
dinky tables
busy
with sets of gay guy lovers
holding
manhands kissing manlips
weeee oui oui gay Parééé! and
they looked as
I passed
probably wondering
if I could have been
a transvestite cross-
dresser tho I wasn’t
dressed as
elegant

I had a good
angle
crosswise
from the painting and
I pointed pressed
the button and
a lady wrapped
half-assed
in a grubby waist
apron ran
in my direction
covered the lens
with her hand and
whispered in my ear

“no no
no you no can
take pictures in here” she
spoke with a strange foreign accent heavy
with spicy breath and
she had a funny foreign face that
matched

“I am an amateur
photographer…” I explained
“I’m visiting I
like that painting and
I want a shot…”

“you can buy it…” she uttered –
louder –
“…cheap!”

“are you trying
to get rid of
it it
looks expensive but
it’s old”

“the paintings on these walls
are for purchase, not for
picture taking.”

  “well, I don’t have any money and
my friends have
only enough to pay
for
the SUPERB kabobs you
serve here but say
if I can’t get
a shot
of the painting could I
at least
shoot some
‘scenes from behind’?” I asked and
I turned focused
toward the cooking area
her hand
flashed in front of the camera as the
flash
flashed

“no…!” she shouted abruptly.
“..take that take that then!” and
she pointed to the
picture of the portrait
on the wall

I got the shot
thanked
the lady and
she disappeared
behind
the scenes

we finished
our drinks our kabobs
and later
I found out
the strange
things in between
my meat
were chunks
of tomatoes and
squash