1858 Steinway Square Piano

I am an old piano Born in Manhattan. And with barely 70 keys, I still sit grand But not a Grand Piano. I'm ornate, it's true, And one-of-a-kind. A gift for a wealthy child at first But he never played me. I just sat in the corner of his room and looked pretty. Over the … Continue reading 1858 Steinway Square Piano

The Strand Shelving Shift

And I'm still half asleep as the morning bell sounds. I shower, shave, and make coffee. Forty-five minutes on the train to Union Square, where there are too many people sleeping on the ground. I take myself inside and the store's still in shadows-- And I'm going down stairs masked from the bit of daylight … Continue reading The Strand Shelving Shift

The Greatest Album of All Time: The Stage Names by Okkervil River

Our life is not a movie or maybe. Beyond what contrives to be able to be a cold wreck of dawn when the cities were towns. Just forget what's begotten aloft and brought down.Unless it's kicks you gave me. Unless it's tricks you played me. Unless it's patter with the crowds. Unless it's mixed to shame … Continue reading The Greatest Album of All Time: The Stage Names by Okkervil River

Midnight Without Sunglasses (after Frank O’Hara)

It's March and you can't find your sunglasses, but it doesn't matter because the sun isn't shining. It's midnight and you're awake and you don't know why, but the moon is out and smiling and the street lights are on and it all makes you wish you had your sunglasses. Frozen in time, the world … Continue reading Midnight Without Sunglasses (after Frank O’Hara)

The Devil Inside Me (a short story)

It's been a long time since I felt completely whole, ya know. Like, I wake up in the morning and I make coffee and I smoke cigarettes, and the rest of the day I yearn for that ritual - that simple doing of something that makes complete sense to me. I dunno. It's bland to … Continue reading The Devil Inside Me (a short story)

Top O’ The Mornin’ To Ya (a short story)

"Yellow is my opposite color," she said through the bit of sleep still entangling her. I laughed for a moment and asked her what she meant, but consciousness wasn't around her enough for her to hear me. "And what about blue?" I asked through smiling teeth. Her eyes opened and looked at me before she … Continue reading Top O’ The Mornin’ To Ya (a short story)