common…

"rent a flat above a shop

cut yer hair and get a job

smoke some fags an play some pool

pretend you never went to school

but still you'll never get it right

while you're lying in bed at night

watching roaches climb the wall

you can call your dad, he can stop it all"

it passed one day last week, but it's been a year since the bastard returned to the thorough borough…

to the liquid…

to west coast of the east…

to my fucking perch…

here in long island city.

shit was so uncertain.

there was a change of the guard at work.

I found out the old boss wanted me out which would have wrecked our future here.

we sold the old place and would be renting in some rathole until the job market returned or some crap.

the new bosses turned out to be more willing to give me a shot than the last one so I got lucky.

so I'm lucky

and grateful

and I live in a nice place with less grief than my old place on metro.

where I did battle on the regular with roaches the size of cattle and I killed rats with my bare hands.

and I sat in the dark being really angry about it all.

I used to walk home through forest hills gardens and sulk all the way home because I knew I'd never be able to afford to own there and now I'm in some other neighborhood where it's so nice that I can't sulk.

it's been a nice breather from hating

beats the hell out of haterade

—the bastard