-
just like that.
Fires had been erupting all across the city. Not spreading, just then, though soon. Not being set, they said on the radio that afternoon, just happening. Not just buildings. Stretches of main streets, asphalt suddenly a logjam of burning red fabric; a circle of flames brought to life at Generation Ballpark, just left of center…
-
you were welcomed.
So you heard of a place called New Orleans. And you were welcomed. Free license to walk the streets, a thousand or so back pocket pamphlets. You helped yourself to the food, possibly undertipped. Complained while complimenting. Took the tours, some of you without any intention of learning. Spoke the word “plantation” with a wistful…
-
suicide at 35.
At the time, I couldn’t have told you how many years I had left to live. Spring of 2004 in the city of New York. The trees were on their yearly walkabout. Some going so far as to erupt in resplendent blemishes. Cherry petals rippled along Brooklyn streets and the walkways of Washington Square Park.…
-
you had your year.
it’s not enough to revise any length of days or events in rewind. you were beating your head against the cemetery wall, and that was then, then now, and when an ecstatic snowfall of fireworks triggered the first smile felt in so long, that was then, then now, and if you think you can have…
-
corner pocket, 2018
corner pocket, corner pocket, corner pocket, i called it. this game of 9 ball started in mid-March, that was the break. the thunderbolt, sledge hammer that shattered the rack, dissolved the pact, sent numbers spinning. and i blinked, missing the moment where the 1 got away, a sly ghost-out into the side. but…
-
christmas in a laboratory.
Two sub-levels down, the little robot quietly raised his head. He counted the minutes. Kept an eye on the door. On the keypad, its digits a calculus red. Once convinced, he stretched his set of mismatched wheels and went for a walk. As always, he reached his destination within seconds. Ends of his rubber-lined, caterpillar…
-
wonderland.
Manny lost his thumb while carving initials into a Sunset Park sycamore on Christmas day. He had run from his house, boots crushing through a fresh snowfall north towards the hill. Streets empty, storefronts shuttered. Occasional fire hydrant peeking out from the drift, curious snouts wondering where the world went. From within his red skully,…
-
we lasted through winter.
i was sideways, asleep, or thought i was, between them, worried what if i would never feel this way again. morning just starting to peak. wouldn’t make its way through those blinds for a good bit, no use for the future. just an indication seeping in through kitchen windows. catastrophic gold. in love, two times…
-
Further South Than Dakota.
didn’t matter the mileage; i had set my footsteps so far into South Dakota that even the Badlands bled away. nothing but circumference in the shape of parched surroundings, you live in a disc now, Lucky. blue skies with one raging eye, reminding me that water was a thing of the past, and the shirt…
-
Grey Was the Color of My Resolution.
Not a lot of people can say they woke up in Scotland. A handful of Scottish people, maybe. But then again, most of the Scots I’ve met don’t describe it that way. Admitting the world is grey, that’s how I’ve heard it. And grey was the word for the day. Color of the light, dropping…
notes from a never-was.
late night, alcohol infused musings from the world's most celebrated unknown.
notes from a never-was. 