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What’s the wordLepeop no lepeop suddenly there is a room full of lepeopbetween Mandy and meWhere at the what’s the wordthe sick people placeyes I remember the headache not a headachemy arms, my legs heavy why so heavyI remember the red flashing lights on the bambulanceI remember joking with the paramedicsI knew one of the
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“So ma’am did the vehicle in question come with or without onions,” Ofc. Joseph Lupo asked. He rubbed his chin to hide his smile.Andie Shepherd tossed her oily rag at Joey and turned to walk away. “Ma’am was sauerkraut involved because we may have to bring in interpol.” His serious tone simmered before boil over
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Chamois in hand, the shopgirl dusted absentmindedly with her right hand while balancing a massive book with left. Instead of being behind the register she had stationed herself close to the fading sunlight of Tartini’s curved window front. The shop, geared to look like an exotic bazaar, was curated to ensnare hipsters and boho soccer
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Born in a fine red brick house in the right part of townher father’s hands still rough from hard laborBehind the lace curtains of his bow front windowsher father’s hands folded in a well tailored suitShe learned to be a good daughter a leading light in all of the colored ladies clubshis smooth hand grazed
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It was the gathering time. In ThisPlace, there was a time for everything. Times to eat, times to work, times to sleep, and now was the time to gather and share information. They all adhered to the schedule because planning is life. To keep their island going each person had to do their share, each
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circular staircase 