Another Vacation Digression


In The Desert

It is a blind butcher’s dream of what a city should be. Hideous and wild, cut to shreds by the acrid sea. An endless state of falling apart while coming together, paint peeling before it has dried to expose the city’s cinder block bones. Its semi-automatic heart pounding out the syncopated beat as the sand rises in clouds.

The inmates dance through the ruins, in every state of affairs. The seductive, the half dressed, the severe, the entombed, the religious, the ecstatic, the weary, the slain, the jaded, the tourists. Hags in corsets, weightlifters in evening frocks, charitable ladies chatting up men in velvet harnesses, on the edge and under the legal limit, gothic maidens and virginal whores holding hands in sweaty clinches beneath the billboards while manly men buy them popsicles. All the freaks of perdition, cast out, hustling for a beer and some shade.

God how I love this place.



  1. You make it sound like San Francisco. :)

    • I was thinking Fellini’s Satyricon, but now that you mention it, Miss Orr, it does sound a LOT like the Folsom Street Fair. Or the Sunset Junction Fair down in L.A. — less porntastic but more socio-economically diverse.

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