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| you vs. me(lody) brought up to be brought into a bristling, a thug-like tug and here I am standing the swirl and gush and push of city, torrents and torrents of city horrible, she said, just horrible music, I said, it's all music thud thud, and hum and drum of blood and thoughts lacking, slacking nerves and guts of wood the steel so still and it sometimes makes me ill when I stop to think about it but music, I say, it's all music and she gets around to agreeing with me Posted 1/8/02 |
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| Writings of Patrick Segiun |
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| MiniAutoBio I am French-Canadian, a Writer/Salaryman, live in Prague, Czech Republic, and have an adaquate voice and a clumsy, yet endearing, sense of rhythm. "I've got no place to be and plenty of time to get there." PS |
| staring down the Strong Man it's Sunday and the Strong Man is on his fifth gin and tonic of the night there's the usual backdrop of burned filter and gray smoke and crashing voices, coated in thin blue conversation a peculiar carelessness as the spiral gets defined, refined, relit and there is laughter somewhere behind the face of a young American blonde two tables to the right high pitch and strike-out these dolls fall down with good drama alright, fine, some kind of holy rhythm in the ice cubes easier on the eye than a hickey or a fly it's still Sunday and the Strong Man is sucking on the mouth of the American blonde the windows pulse dull green while the sky polishes, licks and claws at the scenery with passion no accounting for taste as the rank odour of infatuation rushes around the room like a Saturday morning cartoon I rub my tongue over my teeth and almost remember your name before I make it back to the space where a molar should be low blow and walk-out worse luck has bagged better men that's it, sure, settle in for good or for bad I catch the Strong Man's eye and nod my head toward the door posted 1/9/02 |
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