didya hear that noise out there…some kinda dog barkin’… wake you up… yeah…I was in this dreamlike state and that dog out there woke me up…did the neighbors get a new dog…some kinda big dog like a German Shepard or somethin’…definitely not a small dog…not a yapper…these were full-on barks…and now…nothin’…now that we’re all awake…you […]
how old are ya… pretty old… what…70….75… old ‘nough… ya got any regrets… nope… not a one… lived my life pretty simple…stayed outta trouble…I’ve managed to get by…don’t have much…but…I’ve managed to get by… look at where you live…an old trailer park…what’dya do for a livin’… this and that…worked a lot of different jobs…mowin’ yards…roofin’ […]
you goin’ out to the fair… nope… what’s wrong… just don’t feel like goin’… why’s that… you ask a lot of questions…just full of curiosity aren’t ya…like some kid askin’ his dad this and that…always wantin’ somethin’…now it’s that damn fair…what…ya wanna ride the Ferris wheel…a horse on the carousel…twirl on the tilta-whirl… just askin’… […]
he’d sit at the bus stop for hours…wavin’ busses on by….just liked sittin’ on the bench…smokin’ his Camels…drinkin’ from a brown paper bag…40 oz. …Skoal vodka…cheap brandy… and he’d talk to himself…carry on full conversations…’bout God…the second coming of Christ…the shape of the woman’s ass ‘cross the street… people’d pass him by…scared to talk to […]
she spoke of love…a deep kinda love…said she had it once in her life…some man who brought her flowers everyday…Sunday kisses on the forehead…she spoke of love… and she wept for months…years…when it was gone…when he’d left…walked out the door one night…a ghost whispered goodbye…she spoke of love… Never bothered changing the sheets he slept […]
tired of all this… this… this…everywhere I go there is nothing but the same thing… like… work…always work to do… yes… and you have to do it… don’t have to… no choice in the matter there’s a choice… living for nothing more than the miserable existence of work…all types of work…unskilled…skilled…hourly wage…salary…why I’ve even been […]
he timed himself reading…not for speed or to set a quick pace…just timed it out to see how long he could read ‘fore he lost train of thought…gave up interest completely…reading Cormac McCarthy’s, The Orchard Keeper, page after page…fascinated by his use of language…reading all the words…taking them in bit by bit…eating pieces of the […]
