To the Artist's Page To our home page
To J. Watters's previous piece To J. Watters's next piece
six of one, half-a-dozen the other i bumped into an old school friend the other day he was sitting on a bench over by the bus stop. it looked as if he had inhabited the spot for a while. our chit-chat was minimal, we both seemed anxious. -want some- he asked, offering a dirty needle and a vial of hospital morphine the solution in the flask was tinted a little red from the needle being stuck in it time and again. -no thanks- i said and i walked to the nearest bar and poured whiskey in my head til the stool could support me no more.
To the top of this page