After waking up late Georg and I walked from our SRO hotel to the East Village. The setting sun only lit the highest buildings.
Shit,”he said, “I’ve lost another day.”
“I know. We never see the sun.”
“The only sun I see is only TV and it’s in Black-and-white.”
“We’re becoming vampires, living only a night. Lucky there’s a lot of night this time of the year. All of us have trouble sleeping.”
“You do. I do. Freddie does. And I’ve never seen Tony sleep.” Georg lifted his eyes to the fading sunlight. “Maybe it’s living at that place.”
“No, I’ve had trouble sleeping since I was young. My mother too. But we have to straighten this out. I’d like to get up at least by 12, so I see some of the day.”
“My New Year’s resolution is to rise by 8 and make the rounds of auditions and meet agents.” Georg was a good actor, but no one saw his late-night routine other than his friends at the SRO.
“Yes, wake at 8 and go back to sleep until noon.” I could write poetry any hour of the day, but it was also unsettling that the only daylight I saw was around dawn.
My skin was the color of parchment paper and blood avoided my veins. I spent my hours after work at Serendipity III with the other near-dead at an after-hour bar; drunkards, whores done their last tricks, queers prowling the Hudson docks, waitress getting off work, punks, discoers, and the hospital. We all share the deepest night.
@Astor Place
Drinking free coffee and my nerves are shot. Only two days remain in 1977, the year of double 7s, an impossible crap roll, since the dice only have six sides.
Swaying thighs catch my eyes.
I follow her up the blonde up the block to a bar
She hasn’t noticed my espionage, then she turns and her green eyes engage mine
I politely say ‘hello’ even though I have intruded on her solitude.
She says, “Let’s go to my place.”
I can’t believe she said that
And she asks, “Do you follow women much?’
“No, you’re the first.”
At her place she is silent and beautiful
Never saying a word
After the act I dress
Her body is relaxed.
She yawns
Her parted thighs moist with me
I leave and resume my watch on the city
Waiting for ships and women at night
I ask no favor from anyone. I’m a lowly busboy. I will quit in a week’s time. To end my base servitude.