Us kids swim of a gray pier, dive off, I go down the street after emptying my pockets of old roaches and think "I better go through all my stuff"
I live in the Fortier cellar in a dismal damp room furnished like a vampire's castle -- people visit me -- I go to Jerry Richman's and Bill Wolfe's business store and they're having an argument about something they're fixing or trying to sell -- We cut and measure it out, some nameless huge taffy, we taste it -- Then there's a marvelous rack of delicate chocolates and flavors from all over the world and ground cinnamon nuts and coffee fruits and they mix em all up in a big batter and bake and Coffee Cake emerges which is the most delicous thing in the world -- "That's yesterday's unfresh cake," I say, "Can I have it?" -- they don't even comment, I'm to understand that they only eat fresh baked Coffee Cake -- Bill says of a nut dropped "I'll eat it, they're asking a lot for it" and he plops it in his mouth, as Jerry does the mixing -- I try a sweet bitter chocolate piece shaped like a little stove, from a box in the rack -- the Cake comes out square, streaked with colours like marble cake, suffused with exotic African and Brazilian flavors, crunchy with Cocoa nuts and Nutmeg nuts and Crushed Chunky Nut -- its terrific -- I hope they'll give me some - they hardly know I am there --