guy in a rented room…

he took on these odd jobs…mowing yards…painting houses…pulling weeds…even had a newspaper route…whatever he could do to keep a dollar in his pocket…beer in his belly…

didn’t have a girl…said he didn’t want one…got tired of break-ups and make-ups…never had things on the level…women went one way…he took off in another…

lived in this rented room over on Broadway…a bed sunk in the middle…carpet with cigarette burns in it…walls a dusty brown from smoke…he called it home…

every night he looked out his window down on the street…watched watched bums digging in garbage cans…whores soliciting their goods…cops rolling by slowly…dealers peddling dope…nickel bags…dimes…all of them looking for some kind of score…a buck is a buck…

and sometimes he would look up at the Moon…wondered what it was like up there…wanted to jump in craters…bring home the American flag…

he took on these odd jobs…whatever he could do to keep a dollar in his pocket…beer in his belly…

Published by: dmseay

The writing is based on my surroundings and what I've been surrounded by. This language is coarse and politically incorrect; which I make no apologies for. These characters are not nice and to use any other dialogue would be disingenuine. That being said, I choose to roll the dice. dm seay

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