Monday, 25 June 2007

a day at the flicks

Lester is a Kings Cross character
who has featured on these pages before.
In 1958 he was a celebrity of sorts
and on this day was to give an interview..
at the Minerva ... now the Metro in Orwell Street.

Lets peek back at his day ...........

Apple schnapps, cherry wine
and the misfortune of another interview.
This limo has no guts...
Lester stared out the window
to Macleay Street people.
Beatniks in bleachers with the hint of a suntan.
New lovers, old lovers, reinvented lovers
patchwork lovers and lovers to be.

The door opens at the top of Orwell Street
and the flashlights dance around his face.
Lester spills schnapps on his greatcoat
as he crashes for the door of the theatre.

The hiss and screech of film,
flashes of warmth on his face.
"Lester will you ..... and the new movie,... can you"
a woman yells something important in his ear.
Lester sees a face he recognises
but it gets lost in the throng.
The carpet has a blood stained hue.
"This way ..... please...."
and up the snaily stairway he goes.

Lester stood at the top
and turned back to the waving crowd
in the foyer below.
All eyes stared him down.
How strange, he thought, to be so desired.
My back hurts, my teeth are yellow
and the whole things a fuckin mess.

A door behind him opens sharply
as a clumpy man swings into view..
"This way, quickly, she's waiting".

Lester walks through the doorway
and follows the rather gruff and pompous fellow
along a thin veneered hallway
into a large leatherclad office.
The light was dim and the roaring open fire
bounced from the cheeks
of the old lady sitting in an armchair.
She wore a long tartan skirt
and a bright green skivvy with the words
"now or never" emblazoned across the front.

"Welcome Lester. Nice to meet you..... "
pausing for some kind of introduction.
Please sit here .... next to me
I have something to ask of you ..........

........At this point we lose transmission
so back to akkm and regular bloggin .....
We'll catch up with Lester another day.

Wednesday, 13 June 2007

bonnie and clyde river

The old river is graced by pelicans
for most of the time.
Except when it rains at lake eyre...
2000 miles away.
Only happens once in ten years.
But they know somehow.
Fly away to eat
and do what pelicans do .....
a wise man told me so.

But why do they do it?
How do they know?
Good fuckin question.
Guess they just know
more than we do.
Webs on the earth
for eons and eons....
stepping in god
that they call the ground.

Don't need to make stuff up
to get themselves through....
the old souls just fly west
cause they know they have to.

Tuesday, 5 June 2007

run for the hills

The Paragon is a ghostly place
It creaks and shivers
like deco should.
Fills my head with 78's
and dusty tunes.
Windows bluffed by snow machines
and tasty treats.
I churn back time.

Behind the shopfront
there is a grandeur.
A chocolate factory and a bakery.
Boxes of photos and old invoice books.
Parasoul girls give me black and white looks.
And wise green machinery,
rust filled and murky
once whirred for the noblest
from Old Sydney Town.

Now I haven't been there for years
But I used to go every day......
Poured the coffee and cooked the eggs.
And out the back
there's an old school ballroom
with a mirrored bar that'll take
your breath away.
In the 1920's they danced till dawn.
Some of the old boho's still visit the ballroom,
even though they've been dead for decades.

Never fully believed that stuff
till I saw it myself.
Standing there in his red buttoned coat
Like some lord of the realm ......
But there he was....
as I ate my lunch.
Plain as day.

The Paragon is a ghostly place.