My Friend, Dennis Mathis, Was Reading Eastern

There [dreamtigers By Jorge Luis Borges] Were These Little Fablesque Things, You Know, Dream Tigers, Beautiful, Beautiful Pieces That When You Read Them Had The Power Of A Long Piece, But They Were Prose, And They Had The Power Of Poetry, In That The Last Line Wasn't The End, It Was A Reverberation, Like When You Tap On A Glass Made Of Crystal, And It Goes Ping.

Mom Used To Walk With Me For Something Like Two Or Three Miles To Get To The Day-old Bakery. They Had Those Machines Where You Buy Doughnuts, Those Vending Machines With The Long Johns And Doughnuts. We Would Buy Those Bagels And Pastries Because That Was Our Treat. And Come Back With Shopping Bags Of These Sweets, And Who Knows What Was In It? That Was What We Could Afford That Could Feed That Many People.

The Devil Knows More From Experience Than From Being The Devil

If You Have Potato Chips, That Means, "who's Coming Over?"wealthy People - White People Who're Wealthy - Have A Bag Of Potato Chips That's Folded Over With A Clip. "what? There's Some Left Over?" In My House, If There Was A Bag Of Potato Chips, We'd Pour It In A Bowl And Everybody Would Just Dip In Till It Was Gone.

I Think There's Some Great Stuff Coming. I Do Feel That. I Think We Have Reached Our Harlem Renaissance.