October In The Railroad Road Hockey Earth.

NoParadiseSuchAsThisCanEverBeTruly
SadVille


Next week will be filled with rides in the goddamned cigar tube.

And at one stop there will be public speaking.

So this afternoon I left the lab a little early to get a haircut at my favourite shop on Dunbar directly across from the new Stongs, one of the last vestiges of the truly independent supermarket.

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A half hour later the slanting sunlight bounced off the blanket of leaf colour covering everything when I swooped down off the Creme-Ville plateau and headed for home.

About half-way there, unhurried because it was still early,  I passed by the red brick walls of Lord Tennyson elementary school as the now dying light shimmied from orange towards pink.

And suddenly I was dumbstruck by the thought of a thousand lazy fall afternoons of road hockey with the nets hard up against the red brick walls of my own childhood.

Not to mention...

The first line from Kerouac's 'October In The Railroad Earth' that I have loved since the day I first read it:

"There was a little alley in San Francisco back of the Southern Pacific station at Third and Townsend in redbrick of drowsy lazy afternoons..."

Dig it.

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'Twas the immortal Steve Allen on the piano above...And did you catch Kerouac's sonorous singing voice for a line-and-a-half about two-thirds of the way through?
Finally, just in case you missed it, Mr. Beer 'N Hockey had something important to say about poetry earlier today.

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