It’s nearly noon. I’m sitting here in my broken-bottom dirty gray velvet chair. A fly is buzzing around me. The apartment is dirty, dingy, and cluttered. Beer cans are strung around– and the various sections of yesterday’s Sunday paper are lying about. I’m sitting here in a pair of bell-bottom blue jeans– heating water for coffee on a filthy stove.
September 6th, 1971
September 6th, 1971
September 6th, 1971
It’s nearly noon. I’m sitting here in my broken-bottom dirty gray velvet chair. A fly is buzzing around me. The apartment is dirty, dingy, and cluttered. Beer cans are strung around– and the various sections of yesterday’s Sunday paper are lying about. I’m sitting here in a pair of bell-bottom blue jeans– heating water for coffee on a filthy stove.