Titanticles I

I leave the dinner party high on homemade Absinth. I am in that godlike state where you see your power clearly and I decide to go fishing.

I blow into my house and grab my pole. I live a few blocks from the bay. It is very late almost 4:00 in the morning...

The bay is still and black like I have never seen it...errie

I reach into my pocket for the handful of marshmellows I was using for bait.

I lobbed the marshmellow deep into the blackness, and then I swerved against the tension of my line in the water.

The lights cast a perfect reflection of the bridge and the boats...it was like a post card...I swayed on the grey floation kyack launching dock, feeling the gentle pulse of the still water.

I looked around to see that the place was fairly populated with hip young junkies, out of doors with gear...a young girl...junk raw sees me baiting my pole and stops at the top of the dock and asks in a etherial curiosity "what is that?"

A fishing pole!

This scene throws me into a Burroughs jag just when I get a bite on my line...the electric sensation when that fish grabbed that marshmellow...as I settled back into my skin I realized that the fish had just taken a hit of marshmellow and would be coming back for more...I was a death dealing marshmellow pusher.

Everything was so quite and I was casting the marshmellow out into the black mirror over and over again...until I began to fear the tenticles just slipping out of the dark water and silently pulling me into the water.

"They would just think I was drunk" I thought to myself.