a cold sunday in toronto

Late brunch at friends’ house followed by more home renovations and ineffectual disciplining of remorseless carpet-destroying black-coated. black-hearted schnauzer.

"he levered his arm, raising ravaged veins. The winnowing light was just sufficient to reveal the nasty cicatrices littering the crook of his arm. Gingerly his finger prodded for a vein tender and defined enough to drink the shot. Oooh, there we are; hush now, slowly, breath held slooow. . .

Looking back down he saw in the amber lumen a filament of blood, the merest undulant tendril. Sucking air through his teeth, whimpering softly, he adjusted the needle’s depth. Bingo! A mushroom cloud of blood exploded into the barrel, billowing, blooming a crimson orchid. Weeping gently Joe . . . slammed the syringe like a detonator, plunging the flower of forgetfulness into his bloodstream."

—from Seth Morgan, former boyfriend of Janis Joplin and author of the novel Homeboy (1989)

 
 

Bookseller Photo

Read so far in 2009:

– larry beinhart, salvation boulevard (2008) — great premise for a crime novel, but badly executed in the extreme
– thomas bernhard, wittgenstein’s nephew (1982) — very pessimistic yet very funny and with a sadness that had me looking out the window and sighing, thinking of days and people now long gone
– tony o’neill, down and out on murder mile (2008) — diverting, quite good in some parts, very bad in others; reads as the work of a minor acolyte of the w.s. burroughs who wrote junky

Now reading:

– the demons by heimito von doderer (took 18 years to locate both volumes!)
– attila bartis’ tranquility
– seth morgan, homeboy

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