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About Philadelphia

So, dig this—lookin’ for a hooker, you are? Streets, they hum with secrets, like Timbuktu’s sands. “Patience, you must have,” I’d growl, but nah, you’re prolly rushin’. Me? Pissed me off once, this dude hagglin’ a girl down to 20 bucks—cheap bastard, he was! Made me wanna Force-choke him, ya feel? But then, happy I got, seein’ her sass him back—girl had guts!

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So, the downtown's a jumble of old and new. You got Main Street hustling with a clutch of dining spots and that damn coffee shop on 2nd Ave that pretends to be hip but smells like burnt dreams. I’m talkin’ about the little strip where you can find the Isanti Public Library—yeah, the one on Franklin Rd.—and a couple of crummy bars where folks try too hard to seem smart. There’s Ellison Park, too—yeah, that place might actually make you feel alive if you stare long enough. Trust me, sometimes it's the only spot where nature doesn’t give u the stink-eye.

In Memory of Larry Gehrke