Notes from the City

An indifferent bartender and then I exude a little kindness and he becomes different. Exude is a great verb.

Bogus salsa music. It’s all wrong for the city.

Across the street a homeless man bundles and unbundles his possessions. He’s having a monologue with his things. I’ve done that.

The word trepanning comes to mind. My country needs a trepanning.

A young couple drinks shots of something brown and sit on a picnic table. A picnic in the city in winter.

To and fro and to fro. The city.

I used to live here. I didn’t write a word.

What does it mean to be homeless? I’ll be homeless in a few months, I think.

Broken minds and broken bodies parade outside the window. Put the call out for broken arrow for my country.

Three transients play video poker. One of them has has things stored in a laundry hamper rigged with wheels.

Where is rain?

Where is luck in the city? The country for that matter.

A man wearing blue drapes walks up the steps to the library.

Japanese tourists move down the sidewalk in a pack.