Tuesday, January 28, 2014

§TA§O§ - Chapter 1 - THE BRAND IS FLY - Part 1/3

I awoke to the Ringing of what I imagined to be a Golden Bell, no larger than a thimble.

Across the street, high above and attached to the height of the building,
Three bright and starry spotlights shone down through the darkness.
I sat up, yawned and stretched.
I had me a look around.

'Now who is doing that lovely sounding?' I wondered,
Unable to see beyond the cars parked and lined alongside the road.
I was cozy and for the moment, had no intentions of further suspending that comfort.

At X/Y Intersection of NYC, I was bundled up in a -22 Degree F Proof REI Sleeping Bag.
My bed-sheet - a tarp that boasts a classic shade of Tarp-Blue -
Was neatly folded over my mattress - a REI Inflatable Pad pretending to be Springs.
This was the nightly setup for the icy temp and like a D-1 Team we played it cool.
I know what this looks like but I assure you, I wasn't sleeping on the street -
I was on the sidewalk.

The Golden Bell continued ringing
With a hallowed tone that I figured could have only come from Heaven.
Suddenly I noticed a brand new brown paper bag aside my sleeping bag.
At once, I felt my eyes light up.

"A Gift..."

I pulled it to my side and had a look.

"Biscuits and Cookies..." I whispered, much enticed.

Inside the brown paper bag were about ten or eleven of them, sitting there and lookin' perty.

I checked my watch.

"Quarter after 4 AM, on a Monday Morning..."

I contemplated.

"Maybe I should wait..." I said, "Get some more sleep..."

At that comment, the sonorous vibrations of the bell faded to the darkness.


I reached inside and grabbed a biscuit.
Raising it up, I gave thanks for the Gift bestowed upon me.
I took a bite and chewed and shortly after spit the mush bag into the bag.

"Jesus Christ," said I, not upset as I was amazed. "That has to be the worst biscuit I've ever tasted."

I put the biscuit back in the bag, took out a cookie and took a bite.

"Jesus Christ," I repeated, not in vain, but in a tone of even more sincere impression.
"Even the cookies taste like trash."

I started peering around real suspicious-like, wondering who would do such a terrible thing.
I was considering rousing myself up'n'outta my padded nook -
Prowling the block and rounding up the usual suspects for questioning -

When suddenly -

Out from the darkness -

Footsteps on the approach -

A shadowy form -



Walking on the sidewalk...

Natural enough, I supposed, but I watched him as he neared, anyhow.

He had just passed me by when he stopped,
Reached into his pocket
And pulled out a buck.

"Hey, thanks man," I said, figuring this at least made up for the biscuit.

And while he headed on towards 42nd Street,
I remembered that just the night before, somebody else had passed by and
Handed me a $10.00 Gift Card to McDonalds.


Yes, I thought, this new spot of mine was definitely City-Territory of worthy keep.
And seeing as X/Y Intersection wasn't all too far from Times Square
- where the 'Open 24 Hours' Neon Sign be King -
I fancied breakfast was duly in order.

So I made my bed, put it in my bag and moseyed on my way.


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