Joshua Brown Oct 2
Once they were magical
With the smell of homemade buttermilk biscuits and the sound of the television and the clatter of dishes. They lasted forever, and ever, until it was time for dad to take me to the mall and buy me a toy and a book. It was afternoon and I slept well.

Books are much of my time now. Mornings come quickly, as does most time now. There is a quickening that makes me yearn for when pagers were still common and 56k was your way to Y2K, babe.

A lot has happened between now and that time then. Some of it I wish I could forget. So now I sit and drink my coffee.
Joshua Brown Sep 11
That was
         the best night
     I had in a
               l o n g    t i m  e
Joshua Brown Sep 9
oldest word in the english langu
age with me and we can have a f
east to where the sun rises and w
estuaraies full of vibrant life with
thering vines where grapes once g
rue the day!
Joshua Brown Aug 21
A porch on an old plantation
In a late summer evening

The failing coast lies just before the falling horizon

Sound of crickets and cicadas
As muffled laughter and music plays in the den

What never happened for me, a memory I treasure though it isn't mine

Familiarity nonetheless, and warm
Based on a feeling I once had when growing up in Southeast Lousiana
Joshua Brown Aug 5
Here I am again,
Asking what I've missed
I hope we can get back
on a regular talking schedule..
well, wait, that sounded awkward.

I guess I can't really say
why I dropped contact--
Or wait, did you?
I don't remember

I had fun that night
The one where we danced in
karaoke bar and stole a kiss here and there.

I guess that was us being drunk
and sharing our drunkeness
in a dance and a few close hugs

I hope you're well
I know I'm not very good at follow-ups

Crap, it's late. I can text you later?
I guess? I'm sorry.

I hope you're well.
Joshua Brown Jun 27
I don't want to have to hurt you,
but I have a very special set of skills
and I am not afraid to use them.

So, shall we dance?





Oh,
so it turns out
you had that to use
against me.

And now I'm
lying in this alley
with a couple of  
bullets in my stomach.

And there's a black cat on the dumpster across from me, staring at me.

Is he a gatekeeper to the afterlife?

If so, I probably shouldn't be an ass in my last minutes.

Well, this sucks.




Can you go to hell for writing bad checks?
The last thoughts of Samuel M. Wright, a current resident of Purgatory serving a 300 year sentence, as recorded by his personal gatekeeper, Spoon.
Joshua Brown Jun 27
Inwhichtheauthormustcontendwithadayandahalfoftunningthoughtslikes­teamturbinesonfullpowerspinning,thehighpitchedhumofthoughtsandday­dreamsrunningthroughhisheaduntil the  momentum slows and  h e    h a s   t   o      

sleep.
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