Saturday, July 9, 2011


       SAN FRANCISCO last decade of the 20th Century.


I’m chain-dragging my past forward with me as an eternal side-windering’ drinkin’ compadre.
My beat noir is now North Beach, Broadway.  
Why haven’t I returned to the glittering graveyard that was the Hollywood of my past life?
Well, the L.A. that I used to haunt and hustle of fifty years since, no longer spins its’ allure over me.
L.A. is all xeroxed insouciance and shamour, a dolled up, cosmeticised death...
It ain’t my neighbourhood no more.
So I’ve shifted up a couple of degrees north for a more gothicised clime: San Francisco.

It’s also the Bay City where that perfume ether of that Shadow Bride of mine, for whom I still wait, is the
strongest in this present life.

And I sense she dangles a little bit of her veil here, her marble skin sculptured in the fog swirl, amplified by the dolant fragrance
of Lily of the Valley parfum.

© JIMMY VARGAS 2000 / 2011
From his multimedia dvd / E-Book “MY SHADOW BRIDE"
Photo: Elfes / Vargas

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