Edinburgh

On Princes Street a girl hands me a red leaflet for clothing sale which a little way down the street i crumple up and put in a litter bin. And old aborigines with beards, rogues of shellsuits and cheekboned blonde apaches. Near to signs and glassfront bookshops clustered sales and signs.
An American girl talking nearby. She says it'll cost maybe sixty pounds, a dull street conversation.
The blondes on this street are equaled only by the brunettes.
Coming up to street halt like great traffic lines moving enmasse.
The great video screen in the record store showing girl in bikini, a yellow sunny bikini and great red singing lips (Lisa).
Oh patrician glamour, oh curlicue, oh bankvault, oh perriwig.
Oh Frederick Street, oh grey David Hume loneliness- fagdoup strewn sidewalk. Give homes to the homeless, Give houses to the houseless. Simple as that.
A party of Japanese tourists giggling. Everytime i put on a videogame i say God bless the Japanese. What will they make of these old crags and oldtown ghosts, can they digest such occidental bleakness and confusion, such Sawney Bean histories of despair?
The most beautiful girl i ever saw on probably South Bridge one November. She was of medium height and build and had fairly long but very dark hair. Eyes looking downwards somewhat despondently or perhaps thoughtfully, a pallid face. It was indeed as though my desire had called her into being.