going for a stroll
working backwards from now, naked on a futon, between two box fans and a grown woman
the chapter of the book is called "necrophiliacs anonymous". the book I'm reading, not the one I'm writing. that chapter, at this point in time, is tentatively titled "chapter two"and if I actually finish it, it'll be the artistic high point of the last two years
an ambulance sits in the alley, with its motor running. a girl with glasses sleeps in the passenger seat. the driver's seat is empty. the back window is fogged.
the girl with the fake name rides by on her bike. she must have just gotten off work at the bar. she's monochramatic except for tghe lipstick (like a Frank Miller comic), and put together well. I'm not, so I don't say anything.
I got her real name once, when I was working as a doorman and bouncer.
slight power corrupts slightly, to the point where I'll go up to a pretty girl, introduce myself, and tell her I like her art
a carful of hipsters slams into another car full of hipsters on logan boulevard, and shit stays mellow. one house is all yard, with an elegant birdfeeder, another has it's own waterfall and lagoon. these are not the people who complain about gentrification, and they are not the people who gentrified the neighborhhood
I steal a crazy man's bench by the statue when he walks away, and instead of confronting me when he returns, reasons that the invisible people he was yelling at, have moved to a different bench anyway
[currently watching EVERYTHING IS ILLUMINATED]
the chapter of the book is called "necrophiliacs anonymous". the book I'm reading, not the one I'm writing. that chapter, at this point in time, is tentatively titled "chapter two"and if I actually finish it, it'll be the artistic high point of the last two years
an ambulance sits in the alley, with its motor running. a girl with glasses sleeps in the passenger seat. the driver's seat is empty. the back window is fogged.
the girl with the fake name rides by on her bike. she must have just gotten off work at the bar. she's monochramatic except for tghe lipstick (like a Frank Miller comic), and put together well. I'm not, so I don't say anything.
I got her real name once, when I was working as a doorman and bouncer.
slight power corrupts slightly, to the point where I'll go up to a pretty girl, introduce myself, and tell her I like her art
a carful of hipsters slams into another car full of hipsters on logan boulevard, and shit stays mellow. one house is all yard, with an elegant birdfeeder, another has it's own waterfall and lagoon. these are not the people who complain about gentrification, and they are not the people who gentrified the neighborhhood
I steal a crazy man's bench by the statue when he walks away, and instead of confronting me when he returns, reasons that the invisible people he was yelling at, have moved to a different bench anyway
[currently watching EVERYTHING IS ILLUMINATED]
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