The Tramp of my town

D.David croot
2 min readAug 8, 2022

also… Knowing thy self

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.

It truly is an honour to be read, feel free to share comment and tell me how much you hate my writing!

really tear it apart!!!

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A vagabond with the farfetched

already accomplished

woke up every morning



erection and only moves and moved alone

attune to the winds caresses

in a whimsy of a feat of the only true deity

He was the towns millionaire

Fucked it all off

Gave it all up for… happiness?

walked our streets

talking to nobody

pulling along his possessions

in an old ladies polka-dot shopping trolley

He slept infront of Farmfoods

Pound shop


Doorways of nightclubs in the weekdays

In-front of Wetherspoons,

curled around bins for warmth

Lived as though he did not know another soul

Happier than the married moms and dads

I knew

More content than philosophers of our age

More unique than the cartoons I had privy too

He had a soft meteor beneath those pale blues

Walked with the most grace and style I’ve ever seen

This vagabond of the streets

This shit hurler

This silent nomad who wondered

across the mysteries of my town

knew what I could only guess at!

My debut novel is here, yes free, free, tell all and giveaway to as many people as you know who happen to read. Follow the Feeling:

So you’re addicted to pornography?

D.David croot

Deviant novelist, candlelit poet stuck in archaic notions of a renaissance man who fails to give a shit…