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About Houston

Last week, I’m tailin’ this lead—shady alley, smells like regret. I’m mutterin’, *“Oh, Marge, why this job?”* Suddenly, this gal, she’s standin’ there, all sparkly skirt, eyes like she’s seen too much. I’m thinkin’, *“Her soul’s driftin’ like Boonmee’s jungle spirits!”* I ask her name—Candy, she says. Candy! Ha, like that’s real! I’m all, “Hmm… sugar-coated lies!” Got me chucklin’—these names, always so fake, like Bart’s homework excuses.

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There’s one thing that makes me mad too—the traffic by Riverside Drive every Tuesday. Seriously, WTF? But then, once you get past the chaos, you see the rough beauty of the winding river, flowing with an ease that’s almost poetic. Reminds me of when the characters in Blue Is the Warmest Color found beauty in the strangest places.

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