The rain was heavy but the music in my headphones was bumping. A storm had blown up sometime in the predawn hours and seemed to just stick to the buildings and swirl above us. The city was power washed all morning, and seemed unable to do anything but grin and bare it. All over town …
A cactus drank absentmindedly Water pooled on the wooden table Slowly surrendering to evaporation The late afternoon sun Cast long shadows Shadow puppets of trees Buildings a canvas Dancing in the gentle breeze Clouds, once voluminous and threatening Emptied, pass out over the river To repeat the process elsewhere The cactus, full, sighed
“My voice cracked!” She exclaimed. “I didn’t even know girl’s voices could crack, and it was when I was singing, Jesus this is a disaster. It will be all over the internet by now. Fuck me.” “Like actually fuck you? Or just.” I paused, my joke didn’t land, at all. She was fuming. Usually she …
The odd instrument sat in the corner looking exotic and at least slightly ominous. I stared at it with my head tilted, almost subconsciously looking like a confused cat. I took another puff on the roach and tried to figure out what the fuck it was. It looked like two guitars had been slapped together …
She looked around the room, seeming to be bored, perhaps mildly curious. Her eyes focused on the bookshelves. I had a collection of books in ratty shape stuffed into the two shelves. Various books I’d bought cheap and used and read, letting them slosh around my backpack as I wandered around the city in my …
The door chime dinging out its happy tune as I entered the 7/11. 2 am on a rainy night and I feel at home here. In the aisles of random products, and isle in the storm for me. I yawned absentmindedly and went for the beer fridge. The glass was fogged from the ambient humidity …
I absentmindedly checked the news. I scrolled through the stories with a bit of disdain, or perhaps nothing that strong, just a mere case of the ‘I don’t give a fucks.’ The stories meant nothing to me, and the grabby headlines bothered me. Their attempts, often successful, to grab my attention only increased my scorn. …
The late winter sun set, ending our two hour ration of sunlight for the day. I looked down over the factory and cranes, and the men who were in the cold operating them. Prisoners, I was told, criminals, though I perish the thought of what crime would condemn them to this frozen hell. I always …
Milestones come Highway signs A blur passing by Some large, others small All passed Remarked in passing – Those that don’t escape our view That seem to lag Almost dancing in our gaze Mark our memories Indelibly and temporarily Markers on the mental map – Round numbers are remembered For convenience’s sake if nothing else …
The cobble stones speak Of a past age When trams rumbled past Grinding iron rails Carrying people Rich and poor Bringing life to a city Teeming with promise – A century of moons Cast their mournful light Upon abandoned iron And worn stone All that remains Of teeming promise The future that once was Ages …