Lights shine artfully from towers that stab the night sky. That’s the key. The fill light seeps from lamp-posts and taxis and pedestrian cars. The darkness becomes the subject that’s framed in heroic personification. Alley-bound prowlers become protagonists in the urban ballet of apathy and compassion. Smoke emits from gutters to languish. Ambition puts rootContinue reading “Hunting Ground”
Trauma. The word lands heavy, evoking thoughts of a fragile mind subjected to extreme instances of devastation, violence, brutality, and depravity. Googling the word itself yields this definition: “A deeply distressing or disturbing experience.” It goes on to offer a tangible example in a sentence: “A personal trauma, like the death of a child.”
All right. You got me. I’m no political scientist. I’m not a law student, or some government employee. I’m just another human being. A private citizen. As such, I have what you may call “common sense.” We all have this. We all use it. And sometimes, when you look at the world around you withContinue reading “Considering a Perfect World”
Some great mind conceived in moments self-obsessed upon creative genius the story which now unfolds moment by moment around us. We all from the chattering masses of giggling girls adorned with glittered cosmetics, cosmopolitan branded attire, handbags and clutches and fingernails to the brash and brazen boys with wooden smiles and plastic, remote controlled personalitiesContinue reading “this tragedy is almost comic if it weren’t so sad”
The rats become more than just pets alone but an analogy for the human experience, and I become nothing more than a caged animal continuing to bang my head against walls both real and immaterial as the very scent of far-off lands morphs into the most enticing thing in the world and a part ofContinue reading “the rats and I”
The general granted him leave with a brief, stifled, guttural uttering issued from the deep but caught and left yowling like an animal in a snare somewhere in the limbo between gizzard and tongue, and he turned on heel with a prompt efficiency perfected with time and then he himself made exit.
Lost as we found ourselves in that convoluted mire of misguided humanity which came to be recalled in the vernacular of modern history as The Millennial Generation, little presently could assuage the fervent rapaciousness of our artistic urges nor our belief that such urges would ultimately yield work both timeless and relevant.
Saturday morning, five am four grown men on scooters patrol the street apparently for the forces of good while a college-quaffed, patched elbow rich boy drunk waves a fan of torn-off tree branch he inherited from his father it doesn’t matter if your shirt if collared and cost 100 pounds or if it is floatingContinue reading “trudging homeward”
is this really it? you and me and my aunts and uncles and most kids I went to school with we all bought tickets to THIS fucking ride? the twists and turns it seems to offer are those it uses to squeeze your heart warp your brain and bend your spine at first it seemsContinue reading “unsafe working conditions”