ROBB TODD
Someone actually let me have a book. My first collection of fiction is on sale. You can even enjoy a Kindle edition.
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© 2012 Robb Todd
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I ALSO HANG OUT HERE
OTHER PEOPLE'S STUFF
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Another Drums Along The Hudson Pic. #inwoodpark #inwood #inwoodhillpark #washingtonheights #washheights #newyork #city #newyorkcity #nyc #Uptown...
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“No one is ever really alone. You are part of everything alive.”— William S. Burroughs, Queer
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Skull Crystal LED Door Knob
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“Malia and Sasha and a bunch of my friends and Michelle had sort of like a roast, a little private roast, each one of them read something and Malia...”
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“I’ve no light in me
but that I reflect of you.
You are stars to me.” -
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Look, single dudes, the world will never be in short supply of
ticking-clock women who want kids, so just stay in a little bit of...
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2 posts tagged 168th Street
IT IS LATER THAN YOU THINK
He will not eat an egg for breakfast because he worries about cholesterol but he lights a cigarette and brags about how good the coke was. Cops harass a woman playing the guitar on the subway platform and we climb into the cold night, avoiding a step with a mound of human shit, a bite taken by a boot.
He says he has been flossing all week because he has a dentist appointment in a few hours that he is probably going to cancel. I tell him that is like cleaning your apartment before the maid comes. He says he does that, too.
The sidewalks are crowded with Christmas trees and I breath them in. A long flatbed with tall slats holds hundreds of prone trees. Several men are lying on top, mattress of green needles, chopped trunks, hands behind their heads, staring at the sky. Clouds and city light hide the stars and it is silent for a moment and, here, if you miss that then you miss everything.
That’s not a hat, that’s his hair. Elevator Operator is a dope job, especially since I could push the button myself. Makes me feel wealthy: “Yo, hit that button for me. I don’t want to dirty my finger.” Closest I’ll ever get to having a doorman.
