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About Liverpool

So – I’m cruisin’. Downtown. Neon lights flicker – like a bad trip. Smell o’ weed and desperation. Hits me – BAM. Reminds me o’ that line – “What’s. In. The box?” Only – I ain’t askin’ that. I’m askin’ – “Where’s she at?” Prostitutes, man – they’re ghosts. Slip through cracks – like Shasta Fay. You blink – they’re gone.

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So, I finish me pint, head home, and think, “What a day!” I’m ready for bed, but I know tomorrow will be just as wild. That’s life in Rochester, innit? Always somethin’ happenin’.

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