What is it about this place that draws
you back .... and back again.
Pulled by invisible strings.
The puppeteer sees you coming.
My old mate, Jason, who ran the
guitar shop in Roslyn St had a theory.
"Well where else do you go after this ....?"
perhaps he was right ...
everything else seems just a little tame
after you've spent some time at the cross.
"But there ain't nothing wrong with tame"
I would argue , being the devil's whatitsname.
Nonetheless Jason would try to occasionally
get out of town with all grande intention ....
perhaps into the burbs for a daytrip.
Perhaps an excursion a little more adventurous
with tent and sleeping bag ....
No surprise to me he would get bored ...
Longing to return to what he knew best,
back to his squallid little flat
and his squallid but oh so cool shop.
I, on the other hand
am happy to get away ...
and for longer stretches of time.
Particularly now that the bohemiam gods
are slowly vanishing from this old township ...
frightened off by vomiting teenagers
a creeping conservatism
and disasterous new architecture.
But I am drawn back ...
maybe to Piccolos's (last great bastion)
or to sit in the park and visit the giant fish,
that bookshop, the weekend markets,
the laneway with 2 L's, the secret resteraunt
or the 16 mm film night. Perhaps to visit Estelle
or Lester and frolic on old times
or just to soak it in for a bit.
No strings attached