banana breakfast

[gary webb]

"Now there grows among all the rooms, replacing the nights old smoke,
alcohol and sweat, the fragile, musaceous odor of breakfast: flowery,
permeating, surprising, more than the color of winter sunlight, taking over
not so much though any brute pungency or volume as by the high intricacy to
the weaving of its molecules, sharing the conjuror's secret by which-though
it is not often Death is told so clearly to fuck off-the living genetic
chains prove even labyrinthine enough to preserve some human face down ten
or twenty generations... (pg.10)"

In this coming together of all those who will soon have to face death, they
are allowed this marginal bit of life...
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