I was once trapped in a room with a navy wannabe who wanted to know how I cleaned myself after shooting a motherfucker. I kept quiet. And he went away with noise and anger. I have been hit. I have been bitten. But always I have never.
Author Archives: angrybookseller
Tenderloin
Wednesday, September 19, 2018
For so long I have wanted peace. In the green hills of Washington covered by weeping trees. I walk amongst them confessing my sins. They listen they do not forgive.
Retreat
Sunday, January 21, 2018
And then we missed retreat. While stacking footlockers And breaking in. Because the babies were up And housing wouldn’t be in until Reveille.
Song of the diesel radio
Friday, January 12, 2018
He’s losing his teeth one by one. And then all at once.
Topeka
Saturday, April 22, 2017
A woman lives in this park at the edge of town. She screams at the trees. She eats at the mission. She charges her phone at the library. She steals vodka from the liquor store. And at night she fights sleep, terrified of her dreams.
Fuel in the water, ice on the lines
Friday, January 27, 2017
Miles and miles of turbines day and night harvesting the wind tearing at the sky. All these towns now filled with ghosts but the lights must stay on until the bitter end.
Last free exit
Wednesday, January 4, 2017
Bright lights, black lights. Smell the same. Sitting here in the bright dark putting his last twenty into a g-string or a slot machine. Hoping somehow he can win a different life.
Escape velocity
Thursday, December 15, 2016
The street light blinking out a warning in Morse code A late November storm turning Nebraska into Kosovo Are not signs of better things to come.
The sun is warm, the wind is cold
Wednesday, November 16, 2016
I’ll sleep on the floor of a drained ocean in the shadow of a once jagged coastline. And I’ll dream of you sometime between dark and night
Abandoned churches and deserted graveyards
Monday, October 31, 2016
I recognize the way she waits In the blazing sun For a city bus To take her somewhere She doesn’t want to go.