The Roominghouse Madrigals @page { margin-bottom: 5.000000pt; margin-top: 5.000000pt; } Parts of an Opera, Parts of a Guitar, Part of Nowhere I don’t know, it was raining and I had fallen down somewhere but I seemed to have money so it didn’t matter, and I went into the opera to dry off, and it was opening night and everybody was dressed and trying to act very polite and educated but I saw a lot of guys there mean as hell, I don’t mean mean enough to be a Dillinger but mean enough to be successful in business and their wives were all tone deaf and even the people hollering in the opera were not enjoying it but hollering because it was the thing to do, like wearing bermudas in the summer, and I thought, I’ll never write an opera because they’ll walk all over it, and I walked out and phoned a gal I knew from South Philly and she met me on Olvera Street and we went into a fancy place and ate and drank and this big female kept whirling her fans and shaking her ass in my face and the South Philly broad got mad and I laughed and a little Mexican mean as a tarantula kept asking us to keep quiet and I asked him out in the alley and he went and I took him quite easily and I felt like Hemingway and I took the S.
What do You think about The Roominghouse Madrigals?
