So weary all of the time

Etta Etta Etta. A voice bluesed raw. Haunted, hysterical, restless, listless, sick at heart.

Stoneking and Sal Paradise

...evaluating the hardness of the steel halls and the softness of the woman who is not there.

Black and white world.

Vision: Standing on a disembodied staircase in a very high place, with the anxious swoop of vertigo taking me over and the sudden sound of copter wings interrupting my fall.

Vicarious: Standing smally in front of a guy with a large fake crocodile on his head (or is it an alligator?), damp in my little coat, hat, and wellingtons, fallen rain swimming on stone all around. Rickety bicycles sliding by and disappearing around buildings slowly softening into themselves.

Vaastav: Standing on a cold, indifferent sidewalk, wishing something in this city would sneak its hand into mine.

For Robyn

I love my man better than I do myself.

Even feminists get the blues.