现在是纽约的12点20分，是巴士底日的第三天，是的,这是1959年,我去擦皮鞋,因为我将离开在鼻子洗车店4:19 7:15,然后直接去吃饭,我不知道的人会给我我走闷热的街道开始阳光和有一个汉堡包和一个麦芽,购买一个丑陋的世界新写作的诗人在加纳做这些天我去银行和Stillwagon小姐(我曾听到名字琳达)甚至不查我的平衡这一次在她的生活和黄金格里芬得到一点点Verlaine for Patsy with drawings by Bonnard although I do think of Hesiod, trans. Richmond Lattimore or Brendan Behan's new play or Le Balcon or Les Nègres of Genet, but I don't, I stick with Verlaine after practically going to sleep with quandariness and for Mike I just stroll into the PARK LANE Liquor Store and ask for a bottle of Strega and then I go back where I came from to 6th Avenue and the tobacconist in the Ziegfeld Theatre and casually ask for a carton of Gauloises and a carton of Picayunes, and a NEW YORK POST with her face on it and I am sweating a lot by now and thinking of leaning on the john door in the 5 SPOT while she whispered a song along the keyboard to Mal Waldron and everyone and I stopped breathing