Hoarders and hoards of other wordly creatures fill the street corners, holding tightly, fingers clinging, knuckles white, to anything that makes them feel u n i q u e and whole. Walking around with plastic bags full of things that they don’t need. Blindly reaching for some meaning among all of this meaninglessness. I walkContinue reading “Hoarders”
Tag Archives: #Writer
Summer Days
I don’t have any stories to tell in the summer, when the ocean swells up and the weather is soft and slow and cozy. I feel well in these summer days, and I just want to have a drink with the sun and be quiet for a while. DEAD RED FISH novel now on Amazon
Laundry Day
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On The Balcony
My feet hang between the bars of my brother’s balcony railing. Two kids ride by on their bicycles, laughing about something. I watch them for a minute and then go back to smoking my cigarette. Sweet nicotine. Sweet sweet nicotine. The stars are out. It’s Los Angeles, and the stars are out. Seems funny thatContinue reading “On The Balcony”
Joe Norman
Feeling lonely, I walk the streets and find a homeless man to talk to. He just pissed himself and he’s wearing a garbage bag as a poncho. He says that his name is Joe Norman. He lost his wife and kids in a car accident years ago, and then basically gave up on everything andContinue reading “Joe Norman”
Uncle Doug
I had an Uncle Doug who, every Sunday, would grumble and grunt and fuss his way into his bright green ’73 convertible Corvette, so that he could drive it around the neighborhood and feel young again. He’s dead now, though. Stroke killed him last year. And now the car sits under a tarp in myContinue reading “Uncle Doug”
Concert
Haven’t had anything to eat. Drinking drinking drinking. Beer wine wine wine wine margarita beer beer shot of whiskey, beer. I see a guy smoking a dab pen and I ask him for a hit. He gives me a hit. I give him ten dollars because I’m drunk and I’m sure he deserves it. IContinue reading “Concert”
Church
The bank I go to is in an old church building, with high cathedral ceilings and stained glass windows, and I can’t help but think that the bank owners maintained the old church look on purpose, to ensure that we know that the dollar is meant to be worshipped like the body of Christ. IContinue reading “Church”
Convenience Store
I kick up dirt on the rock shoulder of the road that I take to get to the convenience store by my apartment. Inside, two fat men are sitting at a table, sweating and spitting food at each other while they talk about a football game that they watched in the early nineties. I walkContinue reading “Convenience Store”
Friends
There’s a space between the inner part of the shower curtain and the outer part, where the lip of the tub comes up and there’s a ledge that’s big enough for the cat to lie on. She lays there sometimes when I shower. Seems kind of odd, but I also kind of like the company,Continue reading “Friends”
