A Black Feather, A poison pen... ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- do-la b'cha'a Drums, always these fucking drums. i don't remember whether or not i have mentioned this here, but my next door neighbors (the generally nice ones who had us over last night) seem to have gone on some sort of Tribal kick, nearly every night since the middle of October there have been people gathered out in front of their driveway and into the street. a couple of them wear headdresses and another guy bangs out the same two or three rhythms on a tom-tom i asked them once just before halloween what it was all about and i was told it had something to do with el D�a de los Muertos, but here it is a month later and they are still doing it, still banging the drums, still shouting "whooo!" every so often and still dancing out in the street for stretches of about two hours every night some nights i feel like i should be circling the wagons or something, which, from having ostensibly more native blood in me, is a weird feeling 6:38 p.m. - 2002-12-01 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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