On Cuts.

Laundromat.

Just now, I was able to book an appointment with a barber I’ve never met, to sit in a chair I’ve never seen, to give him jurisdiction of my crown for 15 minutes. I will give him $25 and I will leave. It will have been a transaction of necessity and ease and I will […]

On the tracks

building - Alabama

Most of life I learned by walking from this side of the tracks to that side. I walked home from middle school. Every day. Three miles or so. With my saxophone always and another kid named Clay sometimes. I’d learned about entropy by walking along the train tracks. Because tracks, you see, have already chosen […]

On a spring morning

Untitled - C. Strode

George often wondered how many people in the city realize how much the life of the great city meant to him and countless others like him; how, long ago in little towns down South, there in the barren passages of night, they listened to the wheel, the whistle, and the bell; how, there in the […]

On library books

SquarebooksStrode

There was an old house. No more than four blocks as the crow flies. Probably six as the fox. It was filled with books. It was also a library. The Houston Memorial Library. I don’t know what I was to memorialize there. Maybe a confederate general. They had book sales every now and then. Those […]