Monday, June 18, 2012


Not every night is a barn burner. 'Save the drama for your mama' is more like it. Immortal beings move through time in slow motion. What's a month to them, or even a decade? There's a vampirino in PARIS who's been frequenting the same cafe for two hundred years. Every night he orders the same meal, a Provincal pot-a-feu (pardon my french). The silently judgemental waiters bring it, slam it down upon the table and watch from behind the COFFEE BAR, as 'Mister Midnight' proceeds to cut it up into tiny morsels and feed it to his well mannered, little doggie (a nicely groomed, but absinthe riddled, cross-eyed Pomeranian). I do  not know if he's had the same dog all this time. A talented life-eater could arrange that. But I just do not know.

Papa has taken to public nudity. He wanders the dark, narrow byways 'sans coulottes ' as the CoCo Chanel's and Maurice Chevalier's say. Then, as soon as someone sees him, he flickers out of the ether, only to re-appear someplace else. One local, weekly, urbane publication has begun calling him THE 'MOON' MAN.'  They say he's even on YOU TUBE. Jimmy Kimmel showed a shot the other night, but I missed it.

Annie has been giving 'sonny-boy' ,Conrad, the grand tour. Shows him all the mummies. Takes him to sleep with the polar bears deep within their fake stone, fiberglass, caves. She likes the zoo. Hasn't gotten him to bite off any strange toes yet, but she will. 

Sarah does what she's always done. She heals the poor. Visits hospitals and clinics doling out tiny, glass vials of her restorative blood. Doctors hate her, especially when she helps those with adequate 'fee for service' coverage. Tomas occasionally tags along. After all, she got the idea from him. But our trim, 'young' Spaniard more often than not, enjoys summer evenings spent in the company of his wide-eyed, Mole Girl groupies. He lures the nubile, sweet things up from their below-the subway-tunnels depths for sensual encounters in fine hotels amidst smooth, cool sheets and spa-like showers. Does he bite them? Of course, but not fatally. 'Tastes them' would be more like it.

That's the way it is. The moon comes up. The moon goes down. And night-folk stalk this fine, old town.

Sure, things come to a head, sometimes..... but only sometimes. 

It's a nice way to live...... Well, you know what I mean.....


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