souvlaki heaven

I was standing in the middle of the street on a closed-off St. Laurent. Where was that noise coming from? Bloot bloot. I looked around. Then I realized it was coming from my own pocket.

My mom gave me her cell phone so I could call her from Montreal and tell her I hadn’t flipped my car in St.-Louis-du-Ha!-Ha!.

Bloot bloot.

Sara Spike phoned me up from Concordia.

“Spike,” I said, “I just ate a souvlaki that was so good I sprouted angel wings.” It’s true. For the next hour I hovered over the plateau.

I looked down at everybody, performed the odd miracle, and led women not into temptation.

It just started raining again. I floated through an open window back into the gallery. Once inside I reassumed human form.

I want to go back to the Shish Taouk store and get another souvlaki.

5 thoughts on “souvlaki heaven

  1. here already? but where are you going tonight? friday night in montreal is a whole different story….

  2. Have tons of fun in Montreal. As I read your site tonight, I am listening to an archive of CKDU “Inside the Musician’s Studio” from 2005-03-25 featuring Spinoza. I am almost giddy anticipating when the stream gets to your responses to the Pivot questionnaire. I can only imagine ……..

    When I am done I am going back to CKDU to see if ger has also answered the Pivot.


  3. They asked me my favourite curse word, only to bleep it out. For the record I will reveal it here. Please note that this is to be reserved for very very special occasions:

    “Jesus fucking god-damn son of a hell-hound whore.”

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