Prose from the overnight

I lay on a black-tar roof, looking at the moon above Manhattan.
My back is against a brick wall.
My legs are stretched out and slightly apart.
Below me, the city moves.
Inside, my mind wanders.

Maybe there’s something to this, you know?

We are on the verge of winter, but yet, the summer was just here.
It seems as if I blinked and women changed Continue reading

Morning thought

I say people never know what they are capable of until the situation arises. I found this to be true last night.
Months ago, I sat in a classroom, half-listening, and the only reason I sat there was because my bosses made me go. The instructor went over the material; she placed dummies on the ground, and then she handed out literature.
“I’ll try to keep it interesting,” she promised.
“The sooner we all get this down, the sooner we can all get out of here.”
At that point, most of the class stopped answering their emails from their cellular devices. We put our things away and then went over the necessary steps to learn and preform CPR.

We went over different scenarios; we did our own role play, Continue reading

Written on the way in…

Since writing never paid too many of my bills, I go to work every day like the rest of the world. I have my morning routine, as well as a healthy love for the coffee gods.
After the sound of my alarm clock, I rub the sleep from my eyes and wash my face. I brush my teeth. Then my body turns automatic and somehow knows which way to go.

Like so many others, I am at the commuting mercy of The Long Island RailRoad. I board the train into Manhattan, find a seat, and then I wire music to my ears.
The music is important. Otherwise, I find myself listening to the static of inconsiderate people on their cell phones. I use music to drown the chatter of people that talk too loudly.
Instead of listening to useless noise, I wire music to my ears, tune out the loudness, and sink into my 47 minute train ride.

As I write to you, Continue reading

Thoughts from the long shift at Grand Central station

It’s strange to think about how long ago that was. It was late October and snow had begun to fall in Upstate New York. The sky was gray and the roads were mostly empty. I was sitting in the back seat of a van, heading quietly down Route 17 with a bag of my clothing at my side, and a reformed junkie to drive me to my new home.
He tried to calm my obvious nerves by insisting, “I think you’re going to be fine.”
“I’ve heard good things about this place,” he told me.
That was 24 years ago….

24 years ago, I was driven down a dirt Continue reading

Mother

I Bet my Dad can beat up your Dad….

At least, that’s what we used to say when we were kids. But the truth is no one is better than Mom. Moms know how to fix special blankets. Moms can fix broken teddy bears, and help us with skinned knees. They stop pain, they fix runny noses, and they tuck us in at night.

Moms never leave, and of course, there’s nothing like Mom’s cooking. There is nothing like Mom’s cinnamon toast on a snowy day with a cup of hot chocolate, and there is no one like Mom when it comes to finding something lost.

Dads cannot function without moms. This is Continue reading

Jailhouse Poetry

When I hear the sound of hard shoes clapping against the tiled floor, I connect it with the memory of jingling keys and barred doors that won’t open.

I think of the 3 A.M. drunks that dry-heave in stainless steel toilets,

and the first time-offenders, or “Keepers,” as they called us.

They called us keepers because we were older than the under-aged throwbacks, and old enough to be tried as adults.

I think about the guards and their perverted laugh as they locked the door to my cell

When I see a county bus passing with steel-meshed windows,  Continue reading

From The Sunday Morning Sunrise

Sunday morning, and it’s a pretty one
It was mornings like this one. I remember.
The sun was out and the early frost was on the grass of our Long Island town. I was a boy then.
I played football on a team called The Levittown Red Devils
We were dropped off an hour before game time; we ran laps, stretched, and did our version of calisthenics.
Our young growls resulted with smoke leaving our mouth from the cool morning air.
We counted out loud, “1, 2, 3, ONE…1, 2, 3, TWO 1, 2, 3, THREE!”
Our hands rose above our head, and then slapped down  Continue reading

Journal entry#321

It was early in the morning when she attacked the pipe with a large soup spoon in her tiny apartment. She said, “That’s a sign for the super to turn on the heat.”
But of course, the sign never works. A winter fly somehow found refuge and flew around the small kitchen. On the wall, a yellow fly swatter with a white handle hung like an explanation of a month long infestation. The dried remnants of other flies smashed into the mesh proved the winter fly was the only one left.
“Damned fly,” she swatted.

Apparently, the super was unaware  Continue reading