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by Richie Smith | Nov 29, 2020 | Covid-19

How we envy the naked mannequins of faceless children

Madame Guillard is kind of like a fortune teller…she makes predictions that sensible people tend to ignore.

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

She happens to be a young obese woman and I find her in our bedroom, lying on our king-sized bed.

I’m confronted by the FBI. They’re after me and the president.

by Richie Smith | Sep 26, 2020 | Poetry

milked in the moonstone distillery

by Richie Smith | Sep 7, 2020 | Memoir

Tom Terrific was everything to me on the mound.

by Richie Smith | Aug 23, 2020 | Memoir

First grade was still two years away, but it felt like a lifetime.

We shocked Spokansky perhaps a dozen times until it seemed cruel and a waste of electricity.

I’ll always be 23 and in my heart he’ll always be a teenager learning about himself