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About Houston

Once knew this chick, Natasha, top-tier escort, ice-cold eyes, could charm a corpse. She’d quote, “Farewell’s just noise,” from the movie, laughin’ at clients cryin’ for love. Made me smirk - they pay for pussy, get philosophy instead. Surprised me, honestly, how smart she was, runnin’ circles round dumb rich bastards. Exaggeratin’ a bit, maybe, but she’d knife ya with a smile, swear it!

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I’ve been livin’ here for yonks now. Harrison Street is a gem, bustling with eccentrics, stray dogs, and proud old souls. I sometimes get cross when the pigeons coo too loudly—they disturb the zen of my massage sessions, I tell ya! Speaking of zen, have ya ever taken a break at Overlook Park? Ah, the pine trees and open skies, proper feast for the weary soul. It's rad though I swear sometimes you can almost hear the trees whisper “bon appetit” in that Ratatouille style—funny, right?

Poetry Month Feature: Tupelo Press