Thursday, May 19, 2011

i see dead people

Lucky stared at the fool in the basketball courts, wondering when the hell he would stop staring. Staring is rude you know. He grew tired of staring at the fool and strolled down towards the subway, remembering that smell of cigarettes and chinese food. As he walked down the street, lucky soaked in the sun and remembered the walks he took with his owner when he was young, before the accident and before his troubles. He got to the subway station and walked down the stairs. He felt the rush of the train and heard the sounds of jazz from the homeless musicians. He strolled over to the track and watched the rats scurry around underneath it. Lucky barked. He saw a hand poking out from under the track. When he looked closer, he saw a face, one that he had seen before. It was Leland Jack, that fool that didn't blog in time and was told that his life would end in 28 days, so similar to Donnie Darko that its scary. Wow, how the gods hate that fool. Lucky barked again, this time with laughter. "How fitting," he thought, "now the rat will spend the rest of his life with his kind," at least until someone else sees him...

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

fountain of youth

Lucky woke from his pie incurred daze. Everyone was gone, and the smell that he loved had drifted away. He got up and started walking, like always, nowhere in particular. He came upon the fountain, which for some reason was working today. He started running toward the fountain, eager to jump in and take a bath, something that he hadn't had in ages. Lucky vaulted the lip of the fountain and dove into the water. What was once clean and clear water turned brown and hairy, and washed away all of Lucky's troubles. He hopped out of the fountain and shook off all of the excess hair and dirt and let the wind breeze over his coat. He sat in the sun and dried off. He watched the cars speed by, with drivers on their phones, ignoring life fly by, worrying about their calendars and their schedule and not about the present. He tore his eyes off the road and looked towards the basketball courts, where a man was standing, staring at the fountain. He looked like a freak, bug-eyed and jaw on the floor, as if he was watching a miracle. But really, its just a fountain, and the water must've just gotten turned on by some incompetent city maintenance fool. Funny what people are amused by, how some old fountain can be awesome and appreciated on when its on half the time...

Gimme someadatpie

Lucky had just finished NOT EATING in the diner and walked through the kitchen, speeding up when the cook saw his tail and thought it would be a good idea to chase him. Seemed like a pattern wherever Lucky went, no matter what he did, he was always being chased out or yelled at. Funny how people discriminate against the outdoor dogs of the city. He walked down the alley and suddenly smelled heaven. He hadn't smelled pie since he lived with his owner, who baked daily. He had grown up with this smell, a smell that he had come to associate with home, something he hadn't thought about in a looooong time. He walked to the main street and saw a line of humans lining up for something, but he didnt know what that something was. It looked like a Village People revival, firemen, policemen, construction workers and the like, lined up for something that lucky had to see. He started at a walk, but soon started running, why , he did not know, but a the time he felt like he needed to run. For once lucky was running after something rather that being chased. He got the front of the line and hit a wall of pie aroma. He was in a daze, in a land he hadnt been to in a while, a land of pie with wings and crowds of village people waiting. It was peaceful. It was quiet. It was pie.

Monday, May 9, 2011

the diner

Lucky walked into the 24 hour diner with food on his mind. He crept in through the back door, carefully staying out of eyesight, yet following the smell of fries and onion rings. Slowly, he crept into the main room, running from table to table with his tail between his legs so he wouldn't get stepped on. A waiter ran by, so Lucky ran to the booth and waited under the table. The woman in the booth smelled strongly of cheap perfume and nail polish, which made his nose tingle. His sense of smell was overwhelmed because at one point he was relishing the smells of the diner, and at the same time he hated the woman in the booth, whose tacky stench screamed in the face of all that is holy. Lucky's stomach growled, and he wished that the bitch would just order her food so he could snag a bit of it. While everyone ate, lucky sat, waiting for something, anything to fill his belly.

Friday, March 25, 2011

pollen makes me sneeze

a rap by lil doggie

pollen makes me sneeze,
that yellow stuff makes me wheeze,
better go buy some nasonex,
before my body turns into a wreck,
it makes the cars turn yellow,
and makes the Porsche owners bellow,
"shoulda' bought a car cover,
gonna go cry to my mother."
that pollen makes me wheeze,
goddam it makes me sneeze,
might be sunny outside
but its stormy in my sinuses...

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

men in robes

Lucky walked though the snow towards the Vietnamese restaurant, his paws cold and his coat wet. He stopped at the entrance of the restaurant, soaking in the heat, as well as the stench coming from inside. He lay down near the door and waited for the snow to stop, if it ever would. 30 minutes went by, and just as he was dozing off, he heard a man in a red robe screaming and shaking a stick. Lucky got up and watched this red robed rebel rouser, and barked a few times just to make sure the idiot wouldn't try to come near him. He got up and walked towards the man after he realized that he was no threat to him and followed the man down the street. He went all the way to the subway entrance and stopped, because subways smell like old fried rice and cigarettes. "I gotta get out of this damn snow" he thought and headed towards the graveyard, wondering what else that biotch mother nature could throw at him.

Sunday, October 24, 2010

damn felines

Lucky walks down the street, looking left and right, left and right, watching for food, cars, and feet, all of which are common on a sunny Sunday afternoon. He spots a cat, sitting on a wall, staring back at him with those yellow eyes, swishing its tail back an forth, back and forth. Lucky barks, like he should, (he is a dog of course) and the cat hisses at him and scampers across the wall and disappears into a window on the apartments. Satisfied, Lucky walks down the street, running through puddles from the open fire hydrant that the kids play in, shaking off the water after he is far enough away. He walks down to the park, and sits next to his owner's grave, and sleeps in the afternoon sun.