Poem: Sixty A Day

Sixty A Day Already so used to the smell of tobacco at six I barely notice it permeate every surface of her house every hair on her head, that always reminded me of Tina Turner. Tap, tap, tap, another butt in the tray, flick, flick, flame, another lit in her …

A Quiet Christmas

As you know, we do Thanksgiving in style but scale down Christmas. This year we had nearly twenty people over for Thanksgiving; at Christmas, it will just be the three of us. Last year there were four of us as we have my best friend over for Christmas. This year …