ROBB TODD
Someone actually let me have a book. My first collection of fiction is on sale. You can even enjoy a Kindle edition.
Search
© 2012 Robb Todd
TWITTER FEED
Loading Tweet...
I ALSO HANG OUT HERE
OTHER PEOPLE'S STUFF
-
-
Another Drums Along The Hudson Pic. #inwoodpark #inwood #inwoodhillpark #washingtonheights #washheights #newyork #city #newyorkcity #nyc #Uptown...
-
“No one is ever really alone. You are part of everything alive.”— William S. Burroughs, Queer
-
Skull Crystal LED Door Knob
-
-
-
-
“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...”
-
“I’ve no light in me
but that I reflect of you.
You are stars to me.” -
1316
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...
Tag Results
43 posts tagged Inwood
SPRING TRAINING IN INWOOD HILL PARK
The third baseman would not keep his glove down. The second baseman threw the ball over the first baseman’s head every time. The shortstop knew what he was doing. Everyone in the outfield was asleep.
21 Plays
From what cause I, of course, cannot say.
Of course, from what cause I cannot say.
Of course, I cannot say from what cause.
From what cause, of course, I cannot say.
I cannot say from what cause, of course.
From what cause I cannot, of course, say.
From what cause I cannot say, of course.
I cannot say, of course, from what cause.
EVERY DOG IS A KILLER IN HER HEART
A man on the street said, “Can you help me? I’m poor.” I handed him a banana and he said, “Everything you need to know about life you can learn by watching animals,” and he peeled it by pinching off the black spot at the bottom, not by pulling the stem. “I speak several languages, including toddler, and I’ve picked flowers from rhinoceros horns. Every ritual is forced upon us.” He ate the banana and rubbed his cheek with the back of his hand, looked around, stared into shop windows, eyed the pedestrians, regarded the traffic. He rolled up his sleeve, revealing a faded tattoo of a sleeve. “All we know are assemblages.”
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.
I HAVE TRIED CARING ABOUT A NUMBER OF THINGS
Ring bells on chained bikes. Move.
Please.
Please?
Please!
I have already outlived better men but my perception of your perception of me is not good but it does not matter if anybody else thinks you matter.
Night sounds: clanging radiator, snow shovel scraping sidewalk.
We might be even worse for each other than we are for ourselves. She belches in French and the whole world is in a hurry to slow me down like a crossbred dalmatian-great dane.
Remember: swing for the chopping block, not the wood. Good first-date lesson. Not like this guy who brags to a lady companion, “All my girlfriends have had nice teeth. It must be some kind of subconscious thing.” He is a dentist. “People care so little about their back teeth. You need them to chew. Is that a good enough reason?” She nods and he keeps talking. “Usually the people with really bad teeth only worry about the look and not the function. I don’t know why. You don’t need straight, white teeth. You just need teeth.” She smiles, flashes her teeth, does not say anything. “My dad always said you can tell how rich someone is by how nice their teeth are.”
What do you talk about after this becomes boring? (Instantly.) Gently murdered but there are other things to uncover. Do we save old love letters to prove how much people lie to themselves? Who has seen the pink garbage truck? Why are not more people freaked out that we can see the moon?
So much must be done and, in some ways, I am excited for us to feel bad about the world.
DROP OFF SERVICE WASH & FOLD
Dark and still hot, sidewalks still crowded with three generations and every trash can on every corner overflows and a group of guys walks by and one says, “That’s how I like it though, that’s my flavor,” and he was probably not referring to the garbage and I pop the drum lid on a mini-can of Pringles and walk past the new blue-bright chrome laundromat (and they dry clean, too, and the old woman who presses shirts a block away might be worried) and I eat one Pringle and another and I do not stop until they are gone and I drink the shards and push the small tube into my pocket because there is no room in the trash bins filled with plastic bags and bottles and shoes and boxes and window shades and the garbage spills into the streets. Squeezed orange halves. Warm breeze. Horns. Air conditioner drip-puddles. Leash. Flashing red lights and sharp siren blasts. Guy reading a book on a beach chair under a street lamp.
