Four of us sat around the small bedroom when there should have been five. Words were scarce. Peter sat at the desk chair, the rest of us were piled onto Garrett’s neat bed that used to be nothing but
Todd gives me permission to sleep after Polish vodka shots, mashed guitars and mutual musical respect at four in the morning. Sleeping bag on pad and floor, I’ve forgotten how to sleep in the city. Drips, footsteps, firetrucks freak
drinks in the road flowing before him. His passengers are inert, each wrapped in the other. Each a pothole away from a bladder-burst of embarrassment. DD does not deviate from the straight or narrow, the sparkling markers, the sexually