he coughs,

the smoke curls up and he throws the spit into the fire with a hiss and some apparition appears, some crone, Rose shuffling out of the dark, you again Rose, he says, where have we come to now, with your blind old father, whose turn is it today to offer a little hospitality to the wandering Jew. are we to be lamed wufniks again, again, not knowing, doomed to eternal ignorance of our true purpose,

let it rain, Rose, let it rain the fires of hell on them this time, there will be no mercy here,

until one day it rains, my sweet maryjane,


3 Responses

  1. This is beautiful. A song. Sing it.

  2. Some of the pieces are starting to fit together for me. I like howthe piece ends with a comma. It’s like a short rollercoaster ride that is continuing somewhere else.

  3. delicious. I’m hungry.

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