Quasimodo

My mind is on fire again! My feet are cold as the thoughts chase me like demons down the passageways, walking quickly through the narrow, cobbled twisting streets of The Latin Quarter past the barkers in foreign tongues tempting me to their gastrinomical fares. They are grotesque annoying creatures and if I had the strength I would shut their holes forever. I would clap their ears like symbols, then steal their damn food as my belly screams at me to do so! But not now... I HAVE MORE IMPORTANT THINGS TO TEND TO: I am on my way to Shakespeare & Co. to raid their store! steal their goods! ransack and pillage! then seek refuge forever in the sanctuary of Notre Dame across the Seine. I NEED THOSE BOOKS! I NEED ALL THOSE FUCKING WORDS! I need all those glorious, glorious fucking words! I want them all! I need them! I will have them! I need all those goddamned cursed words that fill all those tiny little candy like sumptuous books with magnificently, neatly, brilliantly, beautifully ordered and structured sentences creating, creating, creating... always creating, commentaries, explanations, diatribes, elucidations, definitions, clarifications, renunciations, commiserations, accusations, attacks, denouncements, proclamations and eviscerations!... I need them... I NEED THEM ALL!... Pacing the alleyway next to the store, an insatiable hunger for words gnawing at my screaming soul!... I will bust down the fucking door of Shakespeare & Co. and I will elbow to the floor everyone of those damn foreign tourists and smash their annoying gawking cameras underfoot as I fill my tent sized hobo sack with book after book after glorious fucking book. Then I will grab the typewriter that sits waiting for me upstairs like a forlorn and horny love and I will jump from the second story window like the crazed methhead and I will run shrieking mad as I dash across the bridge over the Seine to the safety and seclusion of Notre Dame where I will read and write forever in glorious peace and deliciously quiet solitude rearranging all those magnificent motherfucking words into my beautiful forms, ringing the bell and yelling at God above whenever I come upon or put down a particularly stunning, wondrous, astonishing verse, then throw the finished copy down at the waiting slovenly mobs below...