Temporary

 

many years ago,

I lived in a studio

in the back of a dingy apartment complex

in an ill-reputed neighborhood

known for fitful drug users

and scrawny, wiry-haired drifters,

pushers and prostitutes.

often a single person could be

all four.

the air in the building was

a pungent mixture of cigarette smoke

and perspiration stink.

during the day and at night,

the soul-churning wail

of the neighbors’ crying

infants mingled with their

parents run-ins would constantly bounce

off the walls like a dazed house fly

and mute the constantly glaring t.v. sets

and radios.

passed out drunkards sprawled across

the somber hallways in their piss

and vomit were a fixture.

people no longer lifted their angry gaze

to checkout a low flying police helicopter

shining its blinding flood lights

through windows,

nor do they pay much attention

when shots are fired.

my friends and girlfriend visited once.

then, they had more excuses than the

building had rats and cockroaches.

soon they all disappeared.

only the Mormon and the Jehovah witnesses

missionaries kept coming to talk to me

about God and Jesus.

everyday, a skeletal female junkie whose

dealer used to live here until he got shot

to death a week before I had moved in

kept coming by asking for Padron.

she would wait for hours.

then leave.

then come back.

wait for hours.

then leave.

for days.    

I only lived there for six months.

I was broke and between jobs.

I needed someplace cheap

and available immediately.

and that was it. 

Reviews

[Kristina Moulaison]

You are very good at painting vivid pictures of what you see. Every story is like being immersed in the world you are creating. This is a gift. It is a pleasure to read every word.

[LJW]

I like the reality of this. Good, earthy quality. What's not to understand?

I picked up on a few instances of tense problems.

[Emily B]

no matter where we find ourselves, I guess it is always good to remind ourselves that it is only temporary