No One Makes Money at Landlocked Bars on Holiday Weekends

If I only knew the time, he thought, I would know it all. Standing behind the bar on a slow holiday weekend he would wax philosophical. Something outside would catch his eye and the thought would skip away. Like how the awning of the place retracted with one of those poles you slipped through a … More No One Makes Money at Landlocked Bars on Holiday Weekends

On Hearing Notes Composed in Mourning

I attended a concert of classical music this evening. The final piece, “Ode to Lord Buckley,” composed by David Amram, was written after the death of the titular entertainer. Amram knew him well. What follows is a scant account of the performance’s sublimity, composed by myself. The saxophonist scoops notes penned in memoriam and hurls … More On Hearing Notes Composed in Mourning

Bagel Bar

After that first night not sleeping, they went for breakfast sandwiches at the cramped bagel joint overlooking Main Street. The two of them ordered at the counter, but Clyde waited for the tray of food to be prepared. He took the tray and approached the empty stool next to her hoisted bottom and dangling legs. … More Bagel Bar

Gas Money, Honey

Eastern Pennsylvanians love their hoagies. I’d pulled into a gas station after driving six hours north. The place advertised 2 for 1 liters of cola and state minimum cigarette prices. A ‘70s style goose sweeping across a setting sun illuminated above their door. Mosquitoes flocked to its luminance. I parked the car in the rear … More Gas Money, Honey

Envy

I want your Kevlar skin— evolutionarily engineered to banish the blades, the bullets, the bad omens. I want your ‘fuck the world’ attitude you sport the known, flawed self—unhindered by inevitable judgement no blood loss no bullshit no brown nose no nothing but grit and gums and safety pins because they owe you, not the … More Envy