Street cat

On Automobiles

I have never hit an animal with my car, but that does not mean that we are all on good terms.  I have been greeted like a dog by a cat.  If I could expose all her infidelities, my cat would leave and never come back.  There was a dead one walking across Broadway this morning.  A police siren stormed through the air, and a cop drove by, asleep at the wheel.  All experienced motorists know to park on the median when the chatterbox yells "Rain!"

On Music

There is something haunting saxophones.  The notes fling themselves through the air as very far as they can, looking for some ears to funnel and tumble into.  Air trembles ghostly in their path, and we all fall victim to unexpected shivers now and again.  I guess that makes music public property in its own way then.  Someone should tell that saxophonist just how cliche it is to play like that in New Orleans while the sun is going down, and that I love it. 

On Small Island Living

Be the boss of self fulfillment.  It is important to be reliably unconcerned with status, but for all practicalities to be consumed with it.  Horsemanship and cartography.  Demonstration is a guarantee of failure, but ignorance can credit the disillusioned.  To put an end to speculation: the dry intellect should occasionally be watered with the juices of superstition.  Daisies know a little but we know a little less.