Saturday, October 11, 2008

Home Sweet Home

At the end of the day, I don't hide my face and sleep on a corner upright, like the Spirit of Vengeance, I don't wander the subway stations with a Casio organ (or whatever they are called, Christ knows there are enough of them being played in the winter months), no, when all is said and done, I climb down a dimly lit ladder and wax the back of my head before I look into an array of mirrors and say "I am Spartacus!" over and over until I flop onto my side.