RZA is drinking on a train.

RZA is communicating telepathically with the other passengers.

“Get me something good to drink.”

No one responds. They are ignoring him.

The train is quiet.

A small girl sneezes quietly into her hands.

RZA looks at the small girl telepathically.

“God bless you.”

She ignores him.

“Your daughter is very rude” he says to the small girl’s father.

He ignores RZA also.

“You are very rude.”

_

Chris East

http://chriseastallintogethernow.blogspot.com/

ALBERT IDLE

The first Bum I found was Albert Idle.  We talked and had a lot in common.  All we want to do is nothing.  The less we do, the happier we are.  Everything to us is a waste of time and energy.

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STUBBS

I found Stubbs with ease.

Everyone in Colma knew him for his rants about the evils of capitalism.  They said he sat outside the mall screaming at shoppers and passing cars, calling them consumer pigs and company whores.  And because he didn’t have limbs, Stubbs needed little oxygen and could yell for days without taking a breath.

.

ZIGGY

He expected to meet hobos on the train who shared insightful philosophies and bottles of wine.  And he did meet hobos, but they only shared the smell of shit and rants about ex-wives.  Ziggy said in The Haight he planned to find the kinds of people the drunken Catholic wrote about.

But he didn’t. The Diggers are gone.  There’re no peaceful, intellectual, free living youths, and there’re no loving, enlightened, nonconformist old people in The Haight. When I was there all I saw were lazy nihilistic scumfucks who hate the world, tortured burnt out hippies waiting to die, rich people pretending to despise the system that feeds them, and young suburban born college dropouts who think having the same interests as each other makes them individuals.

When I left for Golden Gate Park, I looked back and saw Ziggy playing his violin to tourists who said they wished they had his life but didn’t really mean it.

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FRANNY AND JEZEBEL

Next I went to The Tenderloin to meet Jezebel and Fanny.   

Jezebel said Fanny was born a bum.  Jezebel was the black woman who Fanny relied on for clothes, transportation, and support.  The two were attached.  Fanny couldn’t separate from Jezebel, and for most of her life she didn’t want to.  She was content being Jezebel’s bum.

But when Jezebel started letting men in The Tenderloin fuck her in the ass for money, Fanny decided to escape.  She didn’t know how to though because she was a dumb ass, so she begged for freedom.

I asked Jezebel what fanny’s begging sounded like.  She said like farts.

_

Christopher Forsley

http://bumsofthebay.tumblr.com/

any feeling equals

some sadness

vague or not

for example

your grandma is alone and you don’t care

she has nightmares and thinks they’re real

and you don’t know this happens

and you laugh at the thought of

her being scared and alone and screaming

someone one day will laught at you too

because you’re going to be old

and lonelier depending on how much

you alienated people

_

Ana C

http://idonothavepenisenvy.com/whatever%20shit%20is%20raw%20by%20ana%20carrete.pdf

To make ethyl ether, a dissociative drug, all you have to do is buy a can of “starter fluid” from any car store. Then fill a plastic bottle halfway with water and spray the entire can of starter fluid into the plastic bottle. You’ll notice that the fluids separate, leaving two distinct levels of clear liquid. Use a turkey-baster to remove only the top layer. The bottom layer is pure ethyl ether, which can be put on a rag or some paper towels and then into a bag for inhalation.

.

The angel gabriel visits me when I’m sleeping and cuts my throat with foil scissors. That is why I am pale all the time.

.

You are a failure if you choose an enemy outside of yourself.

.

Begging you to put your toes in my hands.

Toes in my hands, my mean face stops.

_

Sam Pink

http://sam-pink-pbp.blogspot.com/

Just going about my business.

And then, the moment a certain type of thought appears in my mind, when I think something like, “You’re going to be a poor miserable slob ‘til the day you die because you’re lazy and majored in English and you’re a fuckhead”…

…or, “The girl you love will marry someone else, she may like you now but she’ll end up with some other guy who’s not a fuckhead”…

…or, “Your writing sucks and nobody really gives a shit about it, as is evident via your miserable hits, weak number of Twitter followers, and the fact you have yet to write anything long or especially memorable.”

I’ll think something like that and this man, my twin, same face, same body, same clothes even, will emerge from around the corner or the next room over and slap me so hard I’m looking left for five minutes.

_

Stephen Tully Dierks

http://stephen-dierks-pbp.blogspot.com/

My cat is on the next door neighbours’ front lawn. It is 1994. My cat is doing a wee. My next door neighbour watches my cat do a wee from the front window of their house. ‘It’s weeing on our lawn again,’ she says to my other next door neighbour. A tank pulls up in the street. A flap opens in the top of the tank. ‘Now there’s a tank outside,’ my next door neighbour says. A man from the army appears through the flap in the top of the tank. He says something to my cat. My cat finishes doing a wee and walks towards the tank. My cat jumps up onto the side of the tank and climbs in through the flap. The flap closes and the tank drives away. The tank drives to a secret underground bunker. The man from the army climbs out of the tank. He carefully carries my cat out of the tank with him. He is holding my cat in the correct manner: one hand around its stomach, the other hand supporting its hind legs. My cat’s tail swishes involuntarily. This means my cat is either angry or anxious about something. The man from the army carefully carries my cat into a large room full of people and puts it on the floor. Everyone in the room looks at my cat. The room is full of world leaders. Any world leaders who couldn’t physically attend the meeting are being beamed in on large conference screens. One of the world leaders begins to speak. ‘We’re in grave trouble,’ the world leader says. ‘The end of the world is nigh,’ another world leader says. My cat’s tail swishes involuntarily. ‘Only you can help us,’ a third world leader says. The world leaders proceed to outline a complicated and dangerous plan for saving the world to my cat. After they are finished outlining the plan, my cat quickly saves the world. All the world leaders cheer. A few hours later, the tank pulls up outside my house and deposits my cat back on the street. My next door neighbour watches my cat walk up the drive. It walks up the drive very slowly, its tail swishing occasionally on the way. My cat walks into my house through the cat flap on the back door, goes up the stairs to my room and immediately falls asleep on the end of my bed.

_

Chris Killien

http://chris-killen-pbp.blogspot.com/