Issue 107 Fiction Poetry Nonfiction Art + Photography Film Music Books For Creators more


 Jay Passer
 Jay Passer
by Jay Passer  FollowFollow
Mr. Passer, born in San Francisco, extensively traveled the States like a restless dog before settling in Seattle WA at the age of 24. In more habit of posting missives as if addicted to being mutilated by nameless entities posing as very interesting and fun people. Jailed twice in King County for driving without hands or eyeglasses. Returned to San Francisco, as written in Proverbs, 'like a dog to its own vomit'. Can be seen on occasion at Vesuvio's on Columbus, upstairs, drinking apertifs under the painting of the naked chick. Passer is currently at work composing tanka cycles on his cell phone.
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it used to be I'd sit
in the back row of the grade-school classroom

banks of fluorescent light where the sky wasn't
I stared at my shoes and just managed a passing grade

now I can't depend on centralized heat
since the account’s gone to collection

I siphon my whiskey from holes in the walls
what I've learned could wallpaper a shoebox

yet all I really lack is a map of the universe
and a fishing permit



  3 years ago
Ah, it's amazing we can get by on so little. Makes the world both a playpen and a prison.

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