tonight,
at "notes of a second rate poet" I will, following the context of "why this ...doenst love big business" and the somewhat more unfortunate attempt "the anthropology of cars" launch a new attempt called: TO BE CONTINUED...

Alas, here we go:

TO BE CONTINUED part 1:

November, december, january gone. But the nights hangs in. One on top of the other, next to each other. Hand in hand they come, only divided by day.

I wait for her in newly fallen snow. Its very cold. Its dark. I stand next to a big bubbly recycle container for used bottles. Four men, all walking a dog seems to have a rendez-vous at the container. The upscale dresscode do not fit the energy they put in to slamming the bottles down the container. But it fis the neighbourhood. I doubt it if I do. The sound of broken class stresses me. I am waiting and I am stressed out.

She is not coming.

(to erase any doubt, this is where it is "to be continued...")