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LINGER
Sitting in the mall strip plaza coffee shopworking my way slowly through a nonfat cortadoI stared at the everything bagel lyingforlornly on the saucer, its thin coatof peanut butter wishing, as I did, that itwas a spread of cream cheese, all of thisa portent of a difficult day to follow, as ifpunishment for a former…
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OBSERVING
He stood alone, a stoic observerin the midst of the maelstrom,deaf to the cacophony,bathed in a golden silence.This was not a gin dream, hehad let go of alcohol and drugsfor they crowded his thoughts,forced them into places henever wanted to be, his dreamsonce his holy salvation and hea penitent to Saint Morpheus, whopromised him freedom,…
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CHARLES
Bukowski, you old satyr when you croaked was there the great American novel locked away in your head. When you pickled yourself was it for fear that the words locked away inside would spew forth like your lunch so many nights as you verged on alcohol poisoning. When you read Burroughs could you picture the…
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an old writer and his words 