Didn’t nobody ever said these pieces and parts gonna be easy…
Fruitful analysis on its way? Um…er…No. Who knows this go
round what the experts says…
Scene: The jane is zoned? Uh huh. Henry appears out. Henry’s
out.
Nice try, Henry. The jane she drunk or stoned, not much
company, escorted along an abandoned strip mall on Sunday night. Falling off
heels through a miasma of powder and perfume, long way down. Who she is? jane? Jane. “Skip us we, sugar.”—Jane not feeling up to much this desolate and long empty
evening. Likely might have cost him more anyway. (Chimes in then the black feller, following everywhere Henry like a
floating angel, with commentary…We’ll come to know him too.)
Henry’s evening remains chaste. (Same’s hers.) Henry losin’
his grip, but we knew that. Back to your hole, Henry.
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