notes from a never-was.

March 8, 2022

path.

I was halfway down the path, mid sentence when I put my mouth on mute. Not because there was no one to talk to. That had been the case for the entirety of what was now an entire grey-layered week. Wasn’t because of the insistent tap of the knapsack as it beat against my back,…
March 7, 2022

sonia’s window.

the boy sat on the floor of Sonia’s apartment in 100 degree summertime. dry desert heat flowing between the decrepit patio and the bedroom. cigarette clamped between his lips, steeped in the details of the day. indifferent to the nameless young anarchist stretched across the couch, struggling to decipher the cover of a vintage 12…
February 19, 2022

color test.

I was twenty-one with a bullet in my brain. Doing time at The Bishop. Served by the best, buyback every fourth drink. Picking juke box songs with impunity. Staring into space over shots of Jim Beam, gray shades tapped into glass ashtrays. Hustling tables at an Upper East Side five-star, taking orders from old money.…
February 16, 2022

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…
February 11, 2022

red blend.

woke up with the relatable moments of her lips on mine. a swell sense of divine, same as the 9.45 sunshine. blanket on the floor. both of us intertwined in a white sheet that went under a bruise, over her thigh, over mine, down, under and all around. red hair flowing along all of that,…
February 7, 2022

monday.

i’ll take you up and along this this staircase if you’re willing to take the steps. we’ll call first and second as left and right foot, for either one of us. depending. on whether third and fourth have anything to say about our legs, calves, upward thighs, maybe one not quite as present as the…
February 6, 2022

dirty day.

From what the windows had to say, it was going to be another lovely morning in Sunset Park. Thought I’d give it a spot test. Rolled out of bed. Headed for the front door of my basement rental. Careful to avoid the empty bottles, tiptoe around incomplete notebooks and pornography. Paused at the door. Little…
February 3, 2022

open to suggestion.

Uhhhhm…? Could it possibly take place on a train? she asked. Amusement park? Oh, or Ferris wheel. Park bench. Greyhound bus across the northwest states, or maybe the Badlands? Tree house. Rooftop. Maybe a graveyard? Mausoleum? Movie theater, sometimes you get lucky and nobody else shows. Elevator? Dressing room, during a surprise blackout, or… Then…
January 31, 2022

tell me.

that’s just it, i said. everything tastes. and that’s what makes the best of memories unbearable. sent two strokes down along her arm, back up. your pillowcase. the bench where we used to laugh over loaded drinks. the tree i once climbed without an exit plan, the bark, leaves, roots, dirt under my fingernails. separated…
January 26, 2022

the saddest song in the world.

distancing is an art that remains unmastered, she told me. sifted through the albums, generous face awash in a jukebox mood. no small surprise. hard to perfect something that simply happens. who in this world is the best at hurricaning? getting hit by a bus? …when she loses interest… then she paused between Dire…