# 39 Adam Zdrodowski, Warsaw Raisin bread with sweet molasses, baked Alaska and sunglasses. This is what we’re eating, this is what we’re wearing. Bye, bye, honey pie; and take care, Joe, see you in a mo.
# 38 Adam Zdrodowski, Warsaw Thinking about my penultimate post (or perhaps – ultimate, if I don’t come up with something before 12 AM tomorrow) I was looking for a new rucksack but couldn’t make up my mind. Unfortunately, all the ingenious things I wanted to write escaped through the hole in the old one.
# 37 Adam Zdrodowski, Warsaw “For the streets turning into a marketplace everyday; For the fact that that you refreshed drowsy flowers in your hair;” (Ilhan Berk, “Thank You,” Selected Poems, trans. Önder Otçu and Murat Nemet-Nejat, Jersey City, New Jersey: Talisman House 2004)
# 36 Adam Zdrodowski, Warsaw ‘cause I was a bad bad boy: not a single post in seven days and a half. Touch Me I’m Sick:
# 35 Adam Zdrodowski, Warsaw Silhouettes and shadows watch the revolution David Bowie, “It’s No Game (Part 1)” Smoke and mirrors, silkscreens and silver, grit and soot. Soon: Saturday.
# 34 Adam Zdrodowski, Warsaw Found a diamond in the gutter Thurston Moore, “Mina Loy” The Effectual Marriage or the Insipid Narrative of Gina and Miovanni. Jomeo and Ruliet. Weter and the Polf. Par and Weace. But Pride and Prejudice all the same, any time. I hind it fard to prite woday. (But I have …
# 33 Adam Zdrodowski, Amsterdam-the Hague-Amsterdam-Warsaw. This is how it was: finding it a bit difficult to get out of Amsterdam’s Schiphol-trying to find your way to the hotel-enjoying the weather (but this will change)-visiting Rijksmuseum-skipping some details-taking a train to the Hague-getting to the seaside hotel in the blistering wind-getting wrong directions to the …