Found the fernet, just a sip, 'neath the building with the mosaic and crow dotted curly weathervanes, spirally black motifs from an earlier guard. That's the check, need I remember? This place and its yellow dusted buildings, onion headed occasions, triangle headed cartoons, all an atheist alike, and very much a calm peoples, a rich deep soot; all this place has a resin, and I'm back, a decade ago, no, two actually, furiously trying to wrap my head around it. So I found the gooey liquid, running on full tilt that day, telling stories about shoving microphones in orifices, and then teaching kids to scribble sounds with little brass discs and solder. A central eastern, more eastern than central, but you're centrally positioned and trying to undo your eastern leanings. Fernet helps soothe the confusion: hey-you-can-read-dull-neo-whatever-novels-all-you-want-and-it-will-always-fail-to-miss-the-target. The sidewalk is still hollering in American English; the double decade Yappie is now the globalist by-product, a barrel-chested attempt at asserting climate change denial with its fckn Wall Street haircut, a neo lib-bro, brazen, more stupid than ever, and dripping with smarm, creased with top heavy tripod clothing, and unforgivably loutish. Fortunately, Husova street still glimmers and shares its cheeky fish smile. This is the calm place, if I remember correctly, but also the place where the breaks took place, and with gusto I might add, at first against the Holy Roman Empire, then President Havel with his plays, and now... now... now... CALM. And globalists. And fernet. And access to pho, smartphones, piezos, Loony Tunes, iTunes, high fashion, the noise underground, unread novels, mysterious golems, and always with the lurk and lore of a blacker black, a black-black-black that my pens and pencils were way back when (and still to this day) unable to draw.
eyes used for tooth support
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