The Feet of God

128 - JIVE TALK’N

Ever notice how often when people are talkn in a conversation, they may stop to hear what you hafta say, but they’re never really listening?  It’s like they’re just pausing before picking up their serial monologue.  I could hear Crespo drone on, “…if everything goes according to plan, but it usually doesn’t...”

“Always be prepared, that’s my motto,” I replied.

“…his head was so far up his ass he could eat the same burrito twice...”

“Now isn’t that somethin’?”

“…like trying to psychoanalyze a chimpanzee...”


“Someone’s gotta do it.”

“…even dog shit is stardust...”

“Purple is my favorite color.”

“…and the seat of hell is Pandemonium…”


“I see London, I see France.”

“…and when the wolf is the shepherd, the flock is nothing but dead meat…”

“The rooster came before the chicken or the egg.”

“…it was another black swan moment…”

“Either way, it’s a double-edged sword.”

“…yet you can fool some of the people all of the time...”

“Suzy Creamcheese?”

“…so I put everything aboard The Tempest….”

I gotta admit, I’d entirely zoned out and blocked Crespo’s monologue from my conscious awareness.  I heard him prattle’n on and on, and I pretended to be interested by sprinklin
his narration with random comments of my own.

Damn, I just realized I’d smoked my last cigarette.  I crumpled the pack and tossed it overboard.  I stretched and stifled another yawn.  After polishing off a whole bottle of rum while Crespo droned on, I got to feeling real drowsy.  His speechifying plumb knocked me out, and I fell fast asleep.

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