The Tuxedo Inn

Surf Rat?

January 7, 2021

London Street Rat

Genetic testing tells you so many things you already knew

The same genetic testing that tells you where you endocrine system slips on the rails also tells you things that are not secrets.

Last year's round of tests said I was Dutch and Rominy. This year it's German and French. All tossed in with a healthy measure of Glasgow and a heaping predominance of London.

We all trace back to primordial Eve. We all have the power to pick our own family.

The question is: "How to best live with COMT gumming up the works?

On this cold winter's night, I want to travel back to blazing endless summers and living as a surf rat by the sea.

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Sage Advice?

January 2, 2021

Sage Advice

Sage advice from a well seasoned operative?

Received your gift. You always know the right thing to say without saying anything.

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Assaying the New Year

January 2, 2021

Assaying the New Year

Good council?

Assaying the new year with some strong archtypes.

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Your Story, My Story

Anubis Advises

Tonight, your story runs through my head. No that's wrong, it runs through my blood.

It trickles and rushes in tumbles of words that won’t come out of my fingers.

I can hear you laughing at me now. I’m always to overwrought. Everything is a big deal with me.

You posses me like a ghost.

Fifty thousand words couldn’t get you into corporeal form on paper. They couldn’t get you solidified in my thoughts. You are here, there, and everywhere all at once.

Sitting in the living room, feet up, and reading a book. Out in the middle of the night on the Grand Canal. Sending me photographs from places I don’t recognize.

All the time warm, alive, and running full-tilt into the future.

Where I don’t now how to follow.

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Anubis Takes A Walk On A Saturday Night

Anubis Takes A Walk

Saturday night. Another page in the chapbook. Paint, ink, paper, and the jazz of Oliver Nelson. ‘Midnight Blue’ from ‘More Blues And The Abstract Truth’

The sweet saxophone riff coming from the left-hand speaker and the drum and cymbals from the right make me feel like I have myself together. Tonight, I am compact and self-contained. I have my world and my preferences. Horn heavy jazz. Big band swing. Memories of stockings and heels. You, in your chesterfield coat, standing in the cold on the sidewalk outside Blues Alley inhaling a cigarette so fast I could hear the paper burn. You stood there in the cold, your face aglow from the music, the drinks, and the long night to come. Smoking like a dragon, smoke rolling from your mouth and nose and steam rising from your body through your unbuttoned coat. Radiant heat leaving wisps of steam as we both walked from the oven hot showroom to the car.

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