I looked out the window onto the East River. The window was spotted with rain, and dust stuck onto the rain spots. Greezy fingered fat kid smudges lined the other side, and the East River looked snow covered in April. I asked my self, “hey, self– you gone nuts?”

I remember thinking it was because I was under the Heavy Circus Tents and I’d only come out of it to try and rescue my true love from the Mean Reds. Those bastards had come along with the Sword Swallower to mesmerize her again, and steal the springtime from her mind.

So I thought it fine to put them Mean Reds right into me. Made for a glorious wintry vision on a comfortless Manhattan afternoon. I think: Christ, fifty years of us could be interesting this way. It could be beautiful.