blaze foley, ladies and gentlemen:
“i was stranded down in new orleans
i was wandering down the streets alone
you know i wish it could’ve been just a bad dream”
hey can you guess which godawful soul-siphoning human-destroying incurable mental illness lead these fine people to total madness
“. . . but it was so nice hearing from you again, Ryan! I hope everything is going well for you!”
“Huh, yeah. What. OK bye.”
“the 80s in a bad way” is the best way i’ve ever described oakland i think
she came and she touched me
i seem to have backed myself into the corner called “hopelessness” and my family has done all they can to keep me from escaping
at the center of the brain spins a disco ball
the dying embers of a few remaining friendships
Last night outside a bar on Dectaur Street, New Orleans, a man approached me as I stood leaning against a brick wall:
“Hey.”
“Oh, hey man.”
“You, uh—what are you doing?”
“I’m just waiting for my friend to get off work.”
“You OK?”
“I’m OK.”
“You should go to a—a nicer place.”
“I hope to be in a nicer place soon.”
“I hope so too. Good-night.”
‘Deadly Poison’ by LWW
