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Outside sleeps the city. Inside does not sleep the writer, dreaming up extravagant phrases that mean little to nothing. The writer has a face divided by lines and creases and he frowns more than he used to, if you had known him then. He at least calls himself a writer now. That took a lot … Continue reading Baseball Diamond
My girlfriend had been shacking up with some junkie and getting herself hooked on the shit. And when I say shacking up I do mean she was fucking him. But I’d guess he was about as impotent as the bruised arm he forced the old needle into, so I guess my manhood was still intact … Continue reading Sketch of a Life I Know Nothing About
At the stroke of seven twenty-six, I can see the dark blue evening outside my window and I get an overwhelming sense of loneliness, of fear, and I wait for a knock at my door that I wish I could be excited for, but instead fills me with expectations of failure and insecurity. Shit, the … Continue reading VII