those super special moments
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mccutcheon
- New York Scribbler
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those super special moments
I just saw the most beautiful girl in the world. She had long flowing black hair and deep blue eyes, tall and full, like a girl from the Sixties, like Katherine Ross. I had just gone running and was in was line at QFC and was drinking a Gatorade Frost Glacier Freeze I hadn't yet paid for when she walked into the store. I couldn't take my eyes off her. I know she saw me staring at her. I couldn't help myself. She got into line behind me with a candy bar and said, "You shouldn't drink that until you pay for it." with the most stunning playful smile. A shiver went down my whole body. All I could do was smile back- my mouth was full of Gatorade. I know I will never see this girl again and I know I will never forget her. This is fucking great day. Now I'm off to play tennis. I bet I'll win.
those super special moments
trying to write (thank you, Pax Acidus) the story is stuck in Paris, which isn't a bad place to be stuck in, but kind of frustrating when you're pulling a Kerouac, jacked full of uppers, and trying to write 'til you drop
as a little diversion, a similar episode from 10 years ago.
Sloth and I were on a train to Munich, but we didn't have enough money to get sleeper cars. We snuck into a sleeper anyway and met these BEAUTIFUL, at least in my memory, German girls. No surprise there, eh Maggie.
I don't remember where the Sloth went, but I stayed in the sleeper car with the German girls and when the ticket agent came around I hid up in the luggage rack. I wound up falling asleep up there and writing a poem about the prettiest girl of the bunch (who had a dimple in her chin), Simone (get this) Horburger (thats right, WHORE-burger) we connected.
SIMONE
or
THE AUTHOR STOWS AWAY IN A LUGGAGE RACK
Snuck away
I snuck away
saw the down below
from up above
-she can't see me-
-I can hardly understand her-
Long, blond hair
cleft chin
Makes a young boy think of sin
Sin!
Sin would be nice
on a train headed south
into a country whose words I cant understand
-I can hardly understand her words-
-she can't understand mine-
-and she can't even see me-
Long, blonde hair
cleft chin
makes a young boy think of sin
Sin!
It's more than just sin
to watch her asleep
Does she understand more now what I said
than when she was awake?
Is she off somewhere
dreaming
of hidden hobo-poets who live in France
and spy on little German girls
-a low, soft giggle confirms my suspicion-
1991
The girls got off in Stuttgart. Sloth and I went on to Munich (and got PLASTERED), but I will never forget that night, hiding in the train, and watching Simone giggle in her sleep. never...
as a little diversion, a similar episode from 10 years ago.
Sloth and I were on a train to Munich, but we didn't have enough money to get sleeper cars. We snuck into a sleeper anyway and met these BEAUTIFUL, at least in my memory, German girls. No surprise there, eh Maggie.
I don't remember where the Sloth went, but I stayed in the sleeper car with the German girls and when the ticket agent came around I hid up in the luggage rack. I wound up falling asleep up there and writing a poem about the prettiest girl of the bunch (who had a dimple in her chin), Simone (get this) Horburger (thats right, WHORE-burger) we connected.
SIMONE
or
THE AUTHOR STOWS AWAY IN A LUGGAGE RACK
Snuck away
I snuck away
saw the down below
from up above
-she can't see me-
-I can hardly understand her-
Long, blond hair
cleft chin
Makes a young boy think of sin
Sin!
Sin would be nice
on a train headed south
into a country whose words I cant understand
-I can hardly understand her words-
-she can't understand mine-
-and she can't even see me-
Long, blonde hair
cleft chin
makes a young boy think of sin
Sin!
It's more than just sin
to watch her asleep
Does she understand more now what I said
than when she was awake?
Is she off somewhere
dreaming
of hidden hobo-poets who live in France
and spy on little German girls
-a low, soft giggle confirms my suspicion-
1991
The girls got off in Stuttgart. Sloth and I went on to Munich (and got PLASTERED), but I will never forget that night, hiding in the train, and watching Simone giggle in her sleep. never...
those super special moments
since we're on the subject..
and I am amped, but have writer's block
but lots of love for where I've been...
before I knew the Sloth
this is over ten years ago
I went to Russia on a diploamtic mission with the State Department (the best and brightest of America's youth -- isn't that funny?)
it was right around the time that I decided to drop out of high school. i had stolen some customs forms in Moscow and I snuck through PassPortControl in Frankfurt, took a train to Hamburg and tried to find my buddy Lars. He wasn't there so I lived in the train station for a couple of weeks. Complete freak out. Story in itself. But, one rainy day, when I was feeling absolutely strung out and beaten down, i went to a cafe, saw a beautiful waitress (who I thought was looking at me) and wrote a poem. I was seventeen so its abosolutely crap (Im not Rimbaud) forced rhyme is BAD! but the first and last stanzas still make me happy:
My waitress has blonde hair...no golden
and I think she bats me an eye
on a rainy day in Hamburg
as the swans swim slowly by
<...bad poem...>
My waitress has blond hair...no golden
and I think she bats me an eye
as I sit in the rain in Hamburg
happy, and lonesome am I
and I am amped, but have writer's block
but lots of love for where I've been...
before I knew the Sloth
this is over ten years ago
I went to Russia on a diploamtic mission with the State Department (the best and brightest of America's youth -- isn't that funny?)
it was right around the time that I decided to drop out of high school. i had stolen some customs forms in Moscow and I snuck through PassPortControl in Frankfurt, took a train to Hamburg and tried to find my buddy Lars. He wasn't there so I lived in the train station for a couple of weeks. Complete freak out. Story in itself. But, one rainy day, when I was feeling absolutely strung out and beaten down, i went to a cafe, saw a beautiful waitress (who I thought was looking at me) and wrote a poem. I was seventeen so its abosolutely crap (Im not Rimbaud) forced rhyme is BAD! but the first and last stanzas still make me happy:
My waitress has blonde hair...no golden
and I think she bats me an eye
on a rainy day in Hamburg
as the swans swim slowly by
<...bad poem...>
My waitress has blond hair...no golden
and I think she bats me an eye
as I sit in the rain in Hamburg
happy, and lonesome am I
those super special moments
"always roaming with a hungry heart,
that longs to go on pilgrimages."
Thats Tennyson, from Ulysses
take it to heart friends...
that longs to go on pilgrimages."
Thats Tennyson, from Ulysses
take it to heart friends...
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mccutcheon
- New York Scribbler
- Posts: 4996
- Joined: Tue Oct 03, 2000 8:01 am
- Location: NYC
- Contact:
those super special moments
Kyle--the poem 'Simone or The Author Stows Away in the Luggage Rack' is the best poem I ever read, besides, Howel, Leaves of Grass, a few of Buk's, and McCutcheon. It's better than Jack.
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mccutcheon
- New York Scribbler
- Posts: 4996
- Joined: Tue Oct 03, 2000 8:01 am
- Location: NYC
- Contact:
those super special moments
Is it because we are forgien? or what, but why do the European girls always do it to me, or for me? I've had sex with more European girls than American, actually I've had sex with more Brazilian girls than American, but back to my point. I haven't dated an American girl in ten years. I just realized this? Why is this? Mostly because I have lived outside of American for most of my life, but now I've been in New York and Seattle for almost 4 years!!!!!!! Shit how the time flies. In my paln I was supposed to be back in France two years ago for good. I'm slipping, so is this post so good bye. Can't wait to do some damage Kyle. Keep writing. Sloth and I made Universalmakebelieve.com for you and Sarah and Holly and all the other talented fucks out there. Love to my fellow little poets and pervets.