Don’t be surprised to see me standing with my left foot off the ground at midnight as I plan to start the New Year out on the right foot. Here’s to 2020 and thank you 2019.

The highest mountain ain’t always the tallest.

As I approach my seventh decade of life, I find myself, once again a general laborer.  Though no longer in my teens or twenties, it is in very good company that I find myself. Bukowski, Basquiat and Vivian Maier. They are each right here with me, sweating out a days work on cheap whiskey, strong…

He kissed me I kissed him We played We snuggled We slept together He was mine I was his Forever He said so Such happiness Then she came Now I pace Unwanted Unloved And alone

hear the ducks and geese in the fog on a pond unseen so much fowl language

a circus came to town yesterday and I’ll be damned if I can remember even one of those politicians names

In case you misunderstand my sense of humor…this is a fiction story…I’m too lazy to take morning walks — My habit in the morning is to walk up the hill take a left at the major intersection in the neighborhood, continue to the main drag and then return using the first street offering entry back…

Due to ‘hurt feelings’ there will be no ‘Roaring 20s’ this coming decade.

The two men, bitter rivals and starving, found harmony in a shared loaf of moldering bread. There would be time enough later for hatred.

Sorrow lives there Icicles weep from soffit Miserable abode