Hells kitchen to Broadway
It is done. And after being baptized in hell It took all this and more. My training is over and I'm being reviewed for the state boards.
Against the grain
bettys bebopping soul
against the American cinder block
Duomo.
Already old man EMT has offered me a job. They are hurting for people to join the corp and he knows more about my field work than I do. Working the dusty roads where I grew up is redundant but I take what I can get. From it he can heir onto me his pandoras box of misfortune and grand interventions. Babies crying and old men dying as it were.
My new place is silent, and i ash my cigarette into a clam shell. Poe and I have our weeknights where I put on 88.5 Jazz a la moude. She loves the song " my handyman," or atleast she acts like she does. I sit looking at my field sheets trying to prepare for the state boards. The new whiskey of choice is Bulleit, and I have Florence Nightingale dreams time to time.
I shaved my head after the last week when the bulls ran the sun ragged.
"..Into the mercy seat I climb
My head is shaved, my head is wired
And like the moth that tries
To enter the bright eye
So I go shuffling out of life
Just to hide in death awhile
And anyway I never lied..."
It looks good and fine and I've gotten compliments about it. My body has enough hair to surrender my head this summer. By fall It all will be grown back, and I hope to have a uniform. Poe and I will eat Scottish salmon and make plans for Edinburgh. I'll be missing Scottie this summer as he is on a cross country bike trip with Marc. The mission statement aims to find the cure for chronic unemployment syndrome. He will be back by my birthday I suspect.
Again I submitted work and times to Zygote in my Coffee. It will take 8 weeks for Brian Wentland to get back to me...
I dont expect him to accept any prose. Just passing the EMT field test was enough of reward for myself. Time to rest, to fuck, to smoke , to drink, to sing, to bite, to clench fists, to wander professionaly for water and bore myself again... I'm back lone wolf and eventide. I'm headed to the beach, drop the curtain..
The devils stroke for the street
and I keep driving
wayward.
Against the grain
bettys bebopping soul
against the American cinder block
Duomo.
Already old man EMT has offered me a job. They are hurting for people to join the corp and he knows more about my field work than I do. Working the dusty roads where I grew up is redundant but I take what I can get. From it he can heir onto me his pandoras box of misfortune and grand interventions. Babies crying and old men dying as it were.
My new place is silent, and i ash my cigarette into a clam shell. Poe and I have our weeknights where I put on 88.5 Jazz a la moude. She loves the song " my handyman," or atleast she acts like she does. I sit looking at my field sheets trying to prepare for the state boards. The new whiskey of choice is Bulleit, and I have Florence Nightingale dreams time to time.
I shaved my head after the last week when the bulls ran the sun ragged.
"..Into the mercy seat I climb
My head is shaved, my head is wired
And like the moth that tries
To enter the bright eye
So I go shuffling out of life
Just to hide in death awhile
And anyway I never lied..."
It looks good and fine and I've gotten compliments about it. My body has enough hair to surrender my head this summer. By fall It all will be grown back, and I hope to have a uniform. Poe and I will eat Scottish salmon and make plans for Edinburgh. I'll be missing Scottie this summer as he is on a cross country bike trip with Marc. The mission statement aims to find the cure for chronic unemployment syndrome. He will be back by my birthday I suspect.
Again I submitted work and times to Zygote in my Coffee. It will take 8 weeks for Brian Wentland to get back to me...
I dont expect him to accept any prose. Just passing the EMT field test was enough of reward for myself. Time to rest, to fuck, to smoke , to drink, to sing, to bite, to clench fists, to wander professionaly for water and bore myself again... I'm back lone wolf and eventide. I'm headed to the beach, drop the curtain..
The devils stroke for the street
and I keep driving
wayward.