W. Dire Wolff
Nobody can tell you nothing. It isnt like tomorrow was ever here.
There was always something that she forgot to tell me. It worked out that
way. In the end, she only left me wondering. I was wondering what she
was wearing. The phone dropped down on the receiver and...nothing.
Later I walked down by the corner and watch the waves in the street lights.
Yeah, like I stood there alone and waiting for nothing. Cold damp rain
in the headlights of the tiny village. It wasnt like she left me
with promises. It wasnt like she had given me anything at all. It
was just the silent street talk.
It didnt matter much then. I dont care about that now. Really,
like no big deal. My head was empty of those complaints and worry. My
head was just like empty. Things might bother me, but not this time around.
I was only wondering how to get back there. The rest of the world was
just a reason to go back there.
In the Nihon the street are filled with cherries. The women are 10 years
older than there faces tell. Sushi, sake, and gohan on little wooden tables
in Yaki Tori rooms. Eating with the hashi. There in the center of it all
is my great Buddha. He touches my head and I forget the words of duty.
I wait at his feet and for once I am humble. He waits for me in his stone
Then thats like the story.
there was August in Sapporo...
Like you get away from the streets of Tokyo and all the visitors from
the West when you trek on up to Hokkaido. Just some kangaroo lovers and
Vodka breath round eyed tourists up that way. Its a little tough
to find a good dose of English. Then you start realize that you are farther
from the familiar. In Sapporo the bars dont close until Sunrise.
No worry about having to spend the night alone. A dude can just stay there
washing down the night air with whiskey. Its a bit like the Roppongi,
without the English.
Japan in summer time is perfect if you like hot, sticky, humidity. Particular
is the nice hot August days in the streets of Tokyo. Aint nothing
like it. Some folks have a lot to complain about in that weather. Others
it reminds of tropical places. In Sapporo the weather is a little more
forgiving in August. The nights are warm and perfect for hanging out on
a bench in Bon Odori Koen. Cant complain much about nights like
those. Cant complain much at all.
Except as for me, I have to come back. Trade the ladies of the east for
the surfer girls of the west. Same old bikini clad blonde vixens day in
and day out. Just waiting for the next plane ride back to the real world.
Then out of a barrel, you realize that the surf rolls through Santa Cruz
like holy roller. You start clicking on the mainline and get it going
on. Its like, well, How did I get here? This is like,
cool. Total Stoker.
But this little surf world sometimes is only for the week-end...Its
the Monday battle on the hill. Rollin over to the Valley, to Surf
the Net. Punch, Punch, Punch...Tap, Tap, Tap ...like... WWW.BOREDOM.WORK.
Waiting for Fridays check and another week-end of tubes.