:: Mardoux Mardoux... ::

::5.7.04:: HOW LOW CAN YOU GO? Tô animando a escrever...Dia 12 acabo com os textos oficiais, os que falam sobre o belo em Platão, Cézanne, Cubismo, formalismo estético, essas coisas adoráveis. Dia 12 vai ter festa no limbo. Preparem a vassoura!!!!!! Limbo Rock Chucbby Checker Every limbo boy and girl All around the limbo world Gonna do the limbo rock All around the limbo clock Jack be limbo, Jack be quick Jack go unda limbo stick All around the limbo clock Hey, let's do the limbo rock Limbo lower now Limbo lower now How low can you go First you spread your limbo feet Then you move to limbo beat Limbo ankolimboneee, Bend back like a limbo tree Jack be limbo, Jack be quick Jack go unda limbo stick All around the limbo clock Hey, let's do the limbo rock Get yourself a limbo girl Give that chic a limbo whirl There's a limbo moon above You will fall in limbo love Jack be limbo, Jack be quick Jack go unda limbo stick All around the limbo clock Hey, let's do the limbo rock Don't move that limbo bar You'll be a limbo star How low can you go :: Marcia Furriel 2:41 p.m. [+] :: ... Comments: Enviar um comentário

[::..perfil..::] "...[R]eturning to the Red Drum for sets, to hear Bird, whom I saw distinctly digging Mardou several times also myself directly into my eye looking to search if I was really the great writer I thought myself to be as if he knew my thoughts and ambitions or remembered me from other night clubs and other coasts, other Chicagos--not a challenging look but the king and founder of the bop generation at least the sound of it in digging his audience digging his eyes, the secret eyes him-watching, as he just pursed his lips and let great lungs and immortal fingers work, his eyes separate and interested and humane, the kindest jazz musician there could be while being and therefore naturally the greatest--watching Mardou and me in the infancy of our love and probably wondering why, or knowing it wouldn't last, or seeing who it was would be hurt, as now, obviously, but not quite yet, it was Mardou whose eyes were shining in my direction, though I could not have known and now do not definitely know--except the one fact, on the way home, the session over the beer in the Mask drunk we went home on the Third Street bus sadly through night and throb knock neons and when I suddenly leaned over her to shout something further (in her secret self as later confessed) her heart leapt to smell the "sweetness of my breath" (quote) and suddenly she almost loved me--" DO LIVRO The Subterraneans [::.. perfil sarcástico..::]