Fight Nite. |
Short photo essay on the blog.http://fukschool.wordpress.com/
Posted by on Mon, 20 Apr 2009 14:30:00 GMT |
Sentimental titans |
Jay's hair is leaving him, so he spikes it in tiny bulbs that point up in crooked blond stumps. He's two years older than I am and worries endlessly about passing his certification courses to become a...
Posted by on Mon, 16 Mar 2009 08:37:00 GMT |
This Hope will fade. |
fukschool.wordpress.com
Posted by on Wed, 05 Nov 2008 06:28:00 GMT |
Mondays; our lost hours. |
http://fukschool.wordpress.com/
Posted by on Tue, 04 Nov 2008 09:08:00 GMT |
The Dead leaves of a swimming pool. |
There's never time for shit anymore. I'm running across the street to throw my wet work clothes in a Laundromat dryer. Last night I spilled nachos down the leg of my jeans at the 7-11 counter, apologi...
Posted by on Fri, 19 Sep 2008 05:44:00 GMT |
Happiness is not for Everyone ( summer of George part II) |
These are easy days and wreck less hours. I question my crimes of excess out loud to Joe on our third round of drinks in a dingy corner of the Rustic inn. It is one o' clock on a Monday and we have ju...
Posted by on Tue, 16 Sep 2008 04:25:00 GMT |
Happiness is not for Everyone (The Summer of George Part I) |
Neither one of us realizes that the night has faded and left us in the early throws of dawn. Through the blinds of the small window above the bed the blue of another morning crawls in. The sprinklers ...
Posted by on Mon, 08 Sep 2008 08:02:00 GMT |
Fucking with perfect posture. |
We have nothing in common but the sheets that we lay in this morning. She is this and I am that and the silence confirms my suspicions. Her hair is clean; bright, shinning, long and every strand lies ...
Posted by on Thu, 17 Aug 2006 02:53:00 GMT |
The Rattle and Hum. |
(rough draft, unedited.) One thirty in the morning, this is either piss or beer rubbing on my thigh through my jeans. I dont know but if I was asked to make an estimate of what beer this is I would g...
Posted by on Wed, 17 May 2006 12:58:00 GMT |
What are we doing |
Late and sleepless, my head aches from doing things I shouldn't. My grandmother died early Saturday morning. I sat in my uncle's living room in Morella with her almost a year ago, we talked and she to...
Posted by on Tue, 29 Nov 2005 03:06:00 GMT |
