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Rated: · Prose · Arts · #953515
I meet a living legend...and react unaccordingly.
Coming off of the A-Train at west 4th
same as every other night
basketball courts made famous by Carrol
by way of Dicaprio
going, hurriedly
to nowhere in particular
I spotted her in peripheral
humorist
satirist
activist
Warhol friendus
Frannala....Leibowitz that is
not usually a fan
in the fanatic sense
still i approach
a signed copy of Vanity Fair for my coffee table would be fun
a "conversation piece"
Hey! I say
I usually don't do this but I am a big fan
of your Rolling Stone photos
...........
a short silence long enough to make me realize the error
momentary lapse of reason
judgement
sanity
but certainly not humility
"I am not Annie Leibowitz"
"I am FRAN Leibowitz"
I knew that
OHHHHHHH!!!
SHIT!
OK then.......
and i turned and walked quickly away
feeling like those tourists
that I pretensiously snicker at
how did she feel?
to be mistaken for another talented woman
or worse
to be ignored and abandoned quickly
once found out to be only
Frannala
And foolish me
the victim
not of ignorance
but of a mistake and the inability to stay and face my flub
I would not have even approached the photographer
I am not a fan
in the fanatic sense
© Copyright 2005 Old Bill H. (oldbilly at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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