Through a window in thoughtful circles,foraging or seeking a blue
yonder for home,but in a different style uppermost...
To be going in this direction,what is it in this building that
has no other place,and even if it had a space you don't know it,
not much...

The apartment was an odd one no doubt,but this condition
wandered through the mind of Tourbon and she had a friend,
Havre de Grace;  her stony ideas were participants in the general
pattern of their mutual discovery of the place,by accident, several months
earlier in January; and so for the present this three room spot 
represented an upward movement,and a groovier one also,because  the location brought
them closer to le action...
It was a decent place to dream in,which certainly created and extended
overtones,like direct confluence with the nearby street,where a spectacle
could be expected,at all times,day or night.
Besides Tourbon,who had grown up in northern Iowa,might now look
outside in front or onto the side alley,out beyond the walls; straight into
a brickwall opposite,and toke up,getting a concocted mobility for the 
forenoon stroll...

Contra current jive he usually spends his daylong ambling in search of the counter conversation...He might sit with some patience for one of so few years,reading one of his many paperback volumes. Indeed,reader,he pours over these pages,has been doing so for nearly three years...

information:
            do you think reader,that though he never stopped in
           afteryears,this reading made a difference? Did it once
           ever bring him closer to the truth? Inevitably it 
           seems,he enrolled in the career which many want but 
           few desire,he started an enlistment in a service known
           as authority...

But Paul had left his college domain the year before,having his fill of the campus,had been in classes for nearly three years,and the situation had arrived over wrought, the scene just then surrounded by the advance of protest...

His mother did not approve of this flight,though she allowed the inner fonda to move and shake,thus producing a willingness in her to accept her son's departure from a strict four year
undergraduate stick-to-itiveness...Very recently he had become a tourist in his own home city.

                                         And at the time of this program
                                          was living with Momieyo in their
                                          decently furnished apartment,
                                          shall I say in the heart of SanFrancisco?
                                          Almost the heart...

And every day he would leave the marvelous place,searching the streets,
looking for the right place to delve,as one might put it...The streets were interesting,
the illustration of underground living,it could be nearly next door!

Mrs. Blaine opened her eyes and heard her son typing furiously in his room. When she looked at the clock she was struck by the early hour;
Paul did not generally type before the middle of the day,and here it was
barely time yet for coffee,it was fifteen minutes past six...

Marna Blaine was not quite three and forty; and although she had not aged in any wretched or glaring manner,she seemed to be getting a
faded look,a California addition perhaps.

Marna did not work in the middleclass definition,money did not mean for her more than the Trustfund she had had now for twenty plus years...

Really doing something in and for itself in this instance meant the extention of the Arts,or as it might be translated: charity now and forevermore...

It pleased her that son Paul  at twenty already showed signs of the
writer's profile,and had been typing for over three years...

Information: instead of worrying,it's foolhardy,set aside former plans for theme,and plot inside the paralegal purpose...We should imagine the personality in assembly,with holdovers. Turning over instead a number of brief encounters.quick on the draw sketches,minute poems for action a la neunzehnhundredsixtus  (Excuse me)...We have a background,a backdrop for you folks in the Smart set...Incidentally for the austere among us I'm avoiding the props of postwar media,my version would be mere Jive...

 

At the intersection he stands for a while looking at something
across the street; four young shorthaired men,standing there
together,eating take-out...all at once three disappear,into a
nearby movietheater,leaving the one remaining to pace a little
back and forth before he too vanishes around the corner...
                     
                                   XXXXX

    Then equally young Mister Liberal yawns,
unremarkably; and returns to his previously planned
meeting,which he'll be late for unless he hurries along...

   For he was to meet with University friends for beer&conversation...

                                     XXXXX

     These are the leftovers of course...
Sure enuf they have been laid under some stack of papers,piecemeal
pictures of slowmotion action,lingering for how long no one yet knows...

  On after what could not be contained in a week or two,onward into the
inaccuracy of recollection, inward as the typical essay would require...