I went most days to check the post office.
Disheveled looking I stood out like some oddly dressed sasquatch.
Who smelled slightly better, mostly of whiskey and bad choices.
The postmaster thought I was a weird man and I just thought she was a nosy bitch.
“He is always getting the weirdest packages from all over.”
I heard her once saying to the other hens in the coop.
Today was no different.
A package arrived from a friend and fellow poet.
She looked at me smiling as she took the card and went to get my package.
“People sure do send you a lot of things.”
“Yep.”
I replied not caring to converse.
“Can I ask you something?”
I didn't reply because I knew it didn't matter.
“How come people send you stuff from all over the country?”
I didn't bat an eye.
“Well you see I am one of those televangelist and my fellow brethren send me tributes it's just a respect thing.”
She looked at me as if I were insane.
I busted up laughing.
“I'm just joking with you sweetheart.”
“Oh.”
She said as she laughed.
“No you see their actually my dope dealers, Lets see what we have here.”
I spilled the books on the counter it was a collection of books by K.W. Peery.
I grabbed a book inhaled deeply.
“Damn fine stuff.”
“Want a hit darling?”
She was lost and just laughed awkwardly.
I smiled and took my books and left.
I knew the answer would be no.
Intelligence is way to hard of a drug for the backward fucks of Knotts Island North Carolina.
Thank you my friend for saving the day and helping me keep my drunken weirdo status intact.
Next rounds on me.
About John Patrick Robbins:
John Patrick Robbins the editor and chief of the Rye Whiskey Review.
He is also a full time drinker and writer whose work is often bar influenced and a hundred percent unfiltered. His work has been published here at the Dope Fiend Daily , Synchronized Chaos, Romingos Porch , Red Fez, Horror Sleaze Trash , Piker Press , Boned Magazine , Inbetween Hangover , Blue Pepper , Rasputin, Your One Phone Call , Academy Of The Heart And Mind , Angry Old Man Magazine , Outlaw Poetry Network , Spill The Words , Five Two Poetry, Blognostics.
He is also the author of A Cold Beer Beats A Warm Heart.
Published Alien Buddha Press now available on Amazon.
https://www.amazon.com/dp/1725615576/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1534539089&sr=1-1&keywords=john+patrick+robbins
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Come By Tim G.Young
in the cadillac i shot my load off the highway on a dusty road the sun going steady with a big black cloud a dog by the fence howling loud...
-
"Hey, is your mag open to submissions?" I run a daily unless the voices tell me not to because they want to party. "The mag i...
-
But the pain knows not an intrusion of verse. Strangled is the falsehood our lives unmasked perverse. Its deadline’s communion I guess I ult...
-
Two Jacksons or Four sawbucks Up front—$40. No credit cards, no I.D.; Beyond, beneath, Battered neon lights The Blues Hotel Weathered time’s...
No comments:
Post a Comment