Sunday 18 September 2011

Northcote Street Party 2011

At the top of the hill is where it begins, there were a lot of people in West Garth and I believe this was from the plethora of humans either going to or from the street party.  Some police in fluorescent colour waited at the entrance.  there was a lot of people now no shit, they were everywhere crawling up the walls and slithering down the cracks in the pathways where the tree's had grates to breathe in the street air.  Many scents purveyed the matt blue sky day and most of them were from street meat and bread made from dry rubbish crusts.  many ferals were gnawing at the remains of a carcass and in a pen some baby boguns were slavering and growling at passers by.  Some band were playing reggae stuff at the top entrance and i got off my bike and welded it to a solid wall flower and then wandered in as the road made its slight incline over the crown and down into the north.  people flowed like water down a mirror dodging things even other beings at times and generally behaving well.  There was a bit of sun and it was warm and tobacco and spilt beer changed the scents for now.
  I followed two police down the road and got deeper into the beating heart of the festival.  girls and guys like little platelets raced past and faded into the past and still deeper i went.  Another band played now and i don't even remember what they were like, anyway further down nearly to the end i walked up to someone i knew and walked down to the end then back, people everwhere, listless drunk, revelers, stoned, fried, deep fried, toasted, baked, sauteed and poached.  some danced in the street and many had red faces and a lot of homemade clothes.  all the pretty flowers were dancing it out up here.  the mood was good and people were happy for now.  most carried knives and guns for later when the bloodshed would begin.  I wasn't thirsty or hungry so i wasn't going to wait around until then.  I listened to a gypsy bands set and then walked back up through the crowds, josteling good humourdly acting like happy bastards because they had a nice day and everything was great and wonderfull.  some band fllawlessly improvised, like me and it sounded nice not me and eventaully i reached the top unhinged my wings and jumped from the hill and the warm setting sun air carried my down through the tagged streets and over the painted walls and bound earth, back to collingwood where i sit alone.

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