Scene was Long Beach Pike just South of ‘Jungle’ land.. time was late fifties or so.. cold war always at hand.. stories from the barkers barking tales.. socially old.. take a chance.. a gambler’s stance mining for told ‘fools gold’..
‘Isn’t that the worst? like watching hearst’s after a war’.. ‘I agree’ said Sal Macee ‘leaves blood on quiet floors’.. ‘caste blame to the past or God’s no one can say in truth.. that they saw that super being change in a phone booth’..
Fear came then in tears from baby king of wisdom true.. something found in lover’s rings.. rose scent the morning dew.. another day down by amusement parks from boredom town.. about a breath of freedom when those barkers come around..
Quiet Quell spoke gently as dog named Poco smelled.. anything in canine news that dogs worldwide must tell.. laughter loud a wine fed woman lost her love to grieve.. ‘Respect cannot be taken it can only be received’..
Scenes just like the Long Beach Pike down roller coaster way.. paper debris beer bottles have what seems the final say.. Quiet Quell turned quietly laid in his thinking box.. Dreamed a dream in Hebrew of Queen Esther.. cream cheese.. lox..