Dark Meeting
Night in the city. Carrying a television set, I pass Police in the ‘work-tunnels.’ I blend in and am temporarily be-friended by an intoxicated police detective who escorts me to a beautiful, dark haired woman’s yellow-hued, palatial home. She may have been an actress at one time. The detective had gotten sick and splattered me slightly, which I rinsed off with a garden hose. C had bought a much more moderate {but roomy} urban home nearby which I returned to ... A party of elegant ‘swells’ were gathering for a wedding celebration. I left, putting the TV down in the foyer and stopped at a bar where I spoke to no one. Later I found myself visiting a friend on Clinton Place, in an apartment I knew well; where the couch was along the long wall in the living room. The couch was still there though it had a new cover and additional pillows. I'm welcomed by the new people: Women in suggestive attire. I meet an old veteran who says his name is Walter and he just stopped by for a drink.
