Hey Clarence, how's your mother?

I cut my hair, and brushed my teeth. I am a new man. I am reborn. I cut out the curls and brushed the snipings from my shoulders as I walked down the street wearing my fathers shoes, they are kangaroo leather, he haggled the shop keepers down from sixty pounds to thirty five, a crowning moment and one to assure his authority over the pack. One day it will be my turn. I haven't left the house in a while, I've reverted to living life through the window pane that overlooks my garden. Observing my father cut the grass with his petrol powered lawnmower, and my mother pick up dog crap with a trowel, a disgusting but necessary task. I haven't the will power to write any more. I lose attention easily in the heat. I think I might go out tonight after all I am just a victim of society.


Better Get It In Your Soul - Charles Mingus
Canto De Ossanha - Baden Powell & Vinícius de Moraes


Picture of Uffie. Photographer unknown to me. No Copyright infringement intended