Take four drunk friends, one piece of paper and one pen. One person started and passed it on. We couldn’t see anything beyond the first word in each section.
And no one peeked.
AS IF…As if I were a member of their ultra-icon-driven-wonder society. A ritual is just the illusion of stability. Get this one thing thru your skull…you can’t recreate anything.
AS IF. I care. What matters is that the universe fit into the glass of martini. And whoever drank the potion would possess the power to levitate. Because the only thing more important than being above it all
IS at the end of a long road, a dusty, dirt road full of tumble weeds. When suddenly a ground hog asks “Can I borrow a light?” Rodents don’t smoke I thought to myself. “Sorry” I say. “You shouldn’t smoke. Maybe try something else
LIKE something you find behind behind the couch. Three months after the party. And then you realize why your girlfriend left, the neighbors moved out, and your dog ran away…
































0 Responses to “A Bar Story”