Entries 4
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el mártir solitario
punched in the mouth while exiting the rear door of a cta bus typical january high school day five minutes prior, I flirted mercilessly with two public-school girls whose smiles could convert ...
eschatology
taking my stand at the top of the slide I glare at the line of children chanting up at me cry baby, cry baby, cry baby cry baby, cry baby, cry baby blue tears blur crimson rage cry baby, cry baby...
Squall
it was storming that day none of us kids would stay on our cots for nap time the woman wanted us to sleep she smelled like cigarettes and sounded like a creaky door when she spoke she and her old...
garfield ridge story
I was three years old when I first went to school - that’s what my mother called it - a storefront on archer avenue equipped with cots and donated toys, an old black & white television, and a...
