Blog
My Mother Reminds Me of Anne Frank
Anne’s cold soup and stale bread. My mother’s weak tea and Escort Crackers
Madame Earthquake
Every time she dials clockwise there’s more screaming.
A Strange Kind of Swim
How can we swim in two feet of water? Or with such narrow lanes separated by painful rusty wrought iron dividers.
Greenport
sometimes I hear the wind, or remember it rustling
A Stroll Up Lexington
How we envy the naked mannequins of faceless children
Sol and Ida, The Chief and I
Madame Guillard is kind of like a fortune teller…she makes predictions that sensible people tend to ignore.
Animals on a Bridge
I think it’s not going to portend well for this group of vulnerable animals trying to live their life in the city at night on the edge of the bridge
Visited at Home
She happens to be a young obese woman and I find her in our bedroom, lying on our king-sized bed.
Liquidating My Joint Account with the President
I’m confronted by the FBI. They’re after me and the president.
Caps
milked in the moonstone distillery
© Richie Smith
© Richie Smith