Life is a brothel — Ryan Napalatano

D. David Croot has been writing on and off (pretty much continually) for nineteen hundred years. He is no preternatural creature, no real special abilities or heightened desires to speak of, but he’s put in his four-trillion hours and it’s all for you my sweaty precious and sublimely beautiful creatures.

— — — — — — — — -

His mother always stared at

him from the window

Never picked him up from school either

Sometimes he’d have to sprint

through

the authorities just to get home

He was crazy for crazy bones

had them all in gold

traded fifty shiny ones for a gold he did not own

Then changed his mind

He now liked Pokemon cards

peeing himself in class

fighting without provocation

And

dancing to music nobody

could hear

-

One time

His mother shaved the back

of his head

Just

one