RUDIMENTS, pt. 761 (who among you...) Rattles abstract the quart with no bottom : the painter is cleaning his brushes. I sit nearby, in some ancient wicker chair that's so dry from age the wicker turns to powder when you touch it. Who among you should dare for any more than that? There's a flashlight on the shelf, an old style kind, basic, batteries and a little lamp - not those fancy super-bright things they peddle now. Painters don't buy junk like that. Anyhow, this old loft used to be a carpenter shop once too, and then they stored paint gallons, later. Who among you knew any of that? The place on the corner, called Phoebe's; as I recall, from experience, it's been here for years. In the 1980's it stuck out like a sore thumb. Now it rather fits right in. High toned shoes, ambi-sexual men, girls in light stockings and things in their noses. But, still, I don't go there; it's not for me. The k...