Alberta Street - 9:45 PM 6/24/2004

The clouds created an insular light that barely shone as if obscured
by a rickety old hand over an antiquated sepia toned lamp.

It was like walking through a bazaar in Turkey, but
one that would teleport you to the far reaches of the globe,
bargaining for Indonesian Quilts one moment the next bobbing your
head to the entombed sounds of a dervish like bassist and a
cigarette churning drummer,

We were free to roam amongst the ongoing tide,
to be propelled behind the spirit of creation, hop from one eye
catching artifact to another. Cyclists dressed in Road Warrior gear
towed a makeshift crepe paper float, a giant wingspan of a bird, who
shredded dry skin flakes of paper that floated onward within the crowd, with
people cheering, as carloads of Naderites waved arms out of fuel economical vehicles.