God Save the Queen

God Save the Que

4:30 AM. I admire absurdity as the most coherent answer to the universe, but I tend to stay away from it because the gag has gotten stale. Too many stunts rather than carefully meditated works of art. The great poet Gerard de Nerval would put his bluish- green lobster on a leash and take her for walks through the streets of Paris. Now, that I find keen. Inspiring. Arousing, if you will. I write the above as preface, as forethought to an exclamation point: I saw the Queen of England, standing about 5 inches tall, Corgi at her side, warmly greeting her subjects on a cool morning in Belmont Shore, Long Beach. She actually waves her hand (small solar battery keeps her powered). I was arriving back to crash at Gypsy’s after a spectacular Tequila shot contest (I won) at an after -hours establishment  when I caught, out of the corner of my eye, her Majesty waving to me. At first it spooked the ghost right out of me; then, I fell down on the sidewalk amidst some kid’s chalk scrawls and laughed at the utter absurdity.

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