Life is filled with variables: 1. Great art, great human. 2. Great art, shitty human. 3. Shitty art, great human. 4. Shitty art, shitty human. dsc 11/22/2025
Category Archives: poetry
“jobs” left in America:
1. Drug dealer. 2. Mental health listener (you don’t have to actually do anything). 3. Food server. 4. Murderer for Israel. 5. Informant. 6. Sex worker. 7. Gang member. 8. Life coach. 9. Tattoo artist.
Don’t DM kids…
rouga_doaa @Roycer18 Menswear writer. Editor at@putthison. Creator of @RLGoesHard . Bylines at The New York Times, The Financial Times, Politico, Esquire, and Mr. Porter Joined October 2009 · 1,047 Followers Followed by #LΔṈDBΔCK Hey, you look familiar. Have you been to any of my shows or concerts? 6:16 PM I don’t know who you are,Continue reading “Don’t DM kids…”
I applied to a Tattoo Artist job…
resume David Curtis <dcpides@gmail.com> 9:01 AM (0 minutes ago) to 46312f98e5833db1b67db2859e85a139 I am allergic to needles. I pass out if I think about people getting shots. Maybe I could do sharpie tattoos? No wait, forget you read that. That idea is mine. Honestly, I don’t even know why tattoos are still a thing. And voting. Why are peopleContinue reading “I applied to a Tattoo Artist job…”
The story of Louie and a Jazz singer.
When I rented an apartment in downtown Los Angeles around 2008, it had a 40′ long ribbon window facing West 6th Street, and I slept in it without any furniture the first night. The trees outside projected on to the insides of the entire empty apartment, from the Home Depot parking lot lights. Just thatContinue reading “The story of Louie and a Jazz singer.”
Breathing,
a pulse, water, food. It helps if wild animals are not mauling you, but sometimes this happens.
(I have) no favorite brands.
I only have people I want to hear (see, read,…) and people I do not want to hear. The keepers, and the avoids.
All days
are the same amount of wind. Time isn’t real. At some moment, I become more flat, lower. No unwind.
I
don’t believe in those. Time is an illusion. I have on or off setting. The first hour was in 1964. None of these other hours are first. They are not numbered. One of them will be last.
Yes, I was in the shit.
What is ( ) local? Is it a gang? Does local even exist anymore? ( ) was local. ( ) was native, a unicorn. But, ( ) live in something like 16 cities, 3 countries. What is the goal, then, of the label local? A tribe, that refuses to move? One tied to just theContinue reading “Yes, I was in the shit.”
Pi-Des 