Having alighted the plane in New Yarrk City with my kotch stained Levis Button shirt that has a collar, i made headway for a bus to philadelphia-the city of brotherly love, the sweaty cheese steak and Rodin's Gates of Hell.
my portal to the city of Philadelphia was always 30th street station, a beautiful edifice with excessively high ceilings and plunging light shades. her exuding royalty, her body adorned in golden signage, in romanesque filigree and fine detail. her sexily curved wooden waiting benches, and glossy floor enhance the waiting traveller's experience. her rounded bulbous brass clocks tick time travel. she harbours a powerful, godess-like statuette as her focus. her fluted columns, are a mark of a stately woman, she sits upright, she sits proud, she is the guardian of the city.
my portal to the city of Philadelphia was always 30th street station, a beautiful edifice with excessively high ceilings and plunging light shades. her exuding royalty, her body adorned in golden signage, in romanesque filigree and fine detail. her sexily curved wooden waiting benches, and glossy floor enhance the waiting traveller's experience. her rounded bulbous brass clocks tick time travel. she harbours a powerful, godess-like statuette as her focus. her fluted columns, are a mark of a stately woman, she sits upright, she sits proud, she is the guardian of the city.
me, my M&M's and a bot of Dr Peper came to know that station. since, we have parted ways.
I did my first run in Philly about a week comma 5 ago, the temperature a cool 32 degrees fahrenheit. it was incredible. the air so fresh, so crisp. the goose bumps on my legs bursting outta my skin, my lips a dry river bed. the landscape background palate brushes of grays, light grays, blackened blues and deeper hues. the mangled figured trees and the charcoal rippled river. my breath pulling me on to try catch it as it heaved, propelled me. my heart aching beating, an unrythmic flow until i got warm. my ears a fiery inferno, my nose, a reindeer's red. my fingers, frozen crab sticks. my blood trying to pulse itself through the frozen pipelines of my body.having my senses become romantically involved with the station, i came to and accepted a ride with an unafiliated taxi driver.
as i danced across the sheeny shiney floor heading for a taxi. a black guy offered me a ride in his limousine. i said 'ow much you gonna charge me?.' and he said, 'its 9 dollars.' and i was like, 'i can get there for 7'. deal is on. finally my senses flew back into my head through my ear and i questioned the driver as to whether he was an identified taxi. clear as day he wasn't by the look of his beat up ol caddy. anyways, i threw all caution outta the window which didn't roll down so well, and jumped into his blue-rope lit limo. but just as i put my head down to climb in, i said 'you aint gonna jack me, are you?'. he chuckled sheepishly, when i told him id survived johannesburg bare knuckled.that was one of the greatest 7 mile blitzes i've done. it was incredible, it was exhilarating. i needed to share it.
that same day things fell apart.
it ended with my red philies cap strewn on the floor
Rocky punched meat here, he ran up the museum stairs. the fresh prince had his sitcom. Bruce springsteen, the Boss wandered its streets, Tom Hanks died of Aids and Brett Angel baked baguette.
the russian bear hunter added to the city's story telling
from the memoirs of a russian bear hunter
