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Sunday
October 11, 1998
TODAY IS THE LAST DAY
OF THE FIRST OF YOUR LIFE
Call it global warming
but the sun was stronger
than it should be in October
so there was no reason to leave
our outdoor seating at the corner
of 6th Street and Avenue A.
Breakfast at Benny's lasted three hours,
huevos rancheros and bloody marys
until the sun passed into shade
and we walked up a block to Tompkins Park
to hear bongos and watch horny dogs play.
We got to Sidewalk (6th and A,
catty-corner from Benny's) at 5,
where we had 2-for-1 drinks one at a time
along with sandwiches and frenched fries.
Just as we were getting ready to leave,
a pigeon perched above a gap in the canopy
crapped on the tab and our new twenties.
At Michael's over a cigarette, John says,
"Maybe you guys aren't such a good influence."
"You'd drink and eat all the same," Michael says,
"but you'd be conceited if you were a success."
"That's why I don't write more songs,"
John says, thinking about his wrinkles,
"I'd rather stay a failure
if that's what it takes
to keep me humble."
Today reminded John of being on tour,
somewhere between drunk and hungover,
following signs to the next concert.
"A year from now, if I haven't
put together a record, remind me
to become an accountant."
But John, if it were so easy
to keep track of the days,
would we have passed
this one this way?
Or should I say
that, like a bus,
it passed us
and sped away.
____________________________________
M15 up 1st from E 4th
after 24 hours with John and Michael
Sunday, October 11, 1998
eat, drink, and be jaded
