Henry Lu a man of few thoughts, not caring much for the future or the past, all choked up and trying to say something.
Mathew Mccnaughhey, a performance and soliloquy at the Oscar Show, just a kid confessing on stage, replete in his tailored white tux, red hair all curled and sparkling.
“Everyday I need someone to look up to.” (Being on top and looking down). “It’s lonely up here, I need God to look up too, I’m all alone, talk to me God!” And so on.
Henry Lu looking for his shotgun and puking all over himself… pucking for Mathew Mccnaughhey, letting it out, getting rid of it in the bucket, purged, running through the flames, dancing.
It’s 12 o’clock in Manhattan, Colonel Bill out and about in Central Park with a shotgun and a metal detector looking for the pusher-man.
“ Henry I don't write much without a fix,”And, “ I’m a lazy writer and I’m hungry, why I could mainline a mix of lightning bolts and razor, (bleeding , juice flowing again, segment and paragraph).
A blind genius sees the world in black and shades of white, jazzed in a Harlem living room, greased, Bach on electric piano.
“Writing is art Henry, the writer paints with words, it’s been said before, blind soul and perspiration, like a speedball.”
Later, by midnight fixing on a paradisiacal and glorious vision...”