‘wednesday morning’
(i passed out ‘ round 8pm only to reawaken @ midnight)
(i’d helped myself to pork-flavored ramen noodles (sprinkled with “arvi” aka “taro”) before hitting the sack)
i dreamt of a little league baseball game @ greenbrook fields.
as a hitter, i was flawless.
as a right fielder, i let a ball slip through my legs.
my black teammates tried their best to absolve me of all blame…
then i found myself walking up the NY penn station staircase with jason frank and robert toresco (the two premier youth athletes of my day).
somehow this led me to the downstairs chamber of a houseboat.
i found myself engaged in a dialogue with christopher hitchens and mark blumberg on the pressing issues of the day as we passed around pretzel rods.
(i’d fallen asleep to a ‘hitch’ playlist once again)