deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Writer
He walks in.
He is basically a burly, reasonably fit, shady looking fucker, chest like a barrel and hands made of fists. He portrays the image that he is a man's man. Like Bukowski or Hemmingway, he would have fought them both and one day will better them if he chooses.
He opens his mouth to confirm the facts.
"Ya right mate, just been for the hell ride on the bike"
He rides classic cafe racer motorcycles, bikes that will do 100mph plus but don't have brakes. Believing this will help him recapture his youth and virility.
"Got ice Mate?"
His redeeming feature, at this moment in time, is the large bottle of good whisky in his hand.
"You gonna role up"
A large quantity of fine grown bush weed is set to task. Pungent and sweet, almost cystaline in appearence. He takes several big pulls at the joint, followed by a large swallow of whisky and cola.
He drinks whisky with cola.
"Fuck yeah that hits the spot"
He passes me the joint.
"Don't know how you drink that"
He observes me take a hit of whisky, no cola, no ice, and several large tokes on the joint.
"What you been upto? I've been...."
He begins to regail me with the boring story of his motorcycle ride. It has its moments but in general it is dull.
"Written a good story..."
He begins to tell me of the story he has written. He has a copy, he gives it to me, i begin to read. Like his motorcycle handling the writting is sloppy and nearing the inept. But there are moments of true story and great humour.
"It's good, needs a bit of work". He says.
He is basically a burly, reasonably fit, shady looking fucker, chest like a barrel and hands made of fists. He portrays the image that he is a man's man. Like Bukowski or Hemmingway, he would have fought them both and one day will better them if he chooses.
He opens his mouth to confirm the facts.
"Ya right mate, just been for the hell ride on the bike"
He rides classic cafe racer motorcycles, bikes that will do 100mph plus but don't have brakes. Believing this will help him recapture his youth and virility.
"Got ice Mate?"
His redeeming feature, at this moment in time, is the large bottle of good whisky in his hand.
"You gonna role up"
A large quantity of fine grown bush weed is set to task. Pungent and sweet, almost cystaline in appearence. He takes several big pulls at the joint, followed by a large swallow of whisky and cola.
He drinks whisky with cola.
"Fuck yeah that hits the spot"
He passes me the joint.
"Don't know how you drink that"
He observes me take a hit of whisky, no cola, no ice, and several large tokes on the joint.
"What you been upto? I've been...."
He begins to regail me with the boring story of his motorcycle ride. It has its moments but in general it is dull.
"Written a good story..."
He begins to tell me of the story he has written. He has a copy, he gives it to me, i begin to read. Like his motorcycle handling the writting is sloppy and nearing the inept. But there are moments of true story and great humour.
"It's good, needs a bit of work". He says.
Published 9th Jun 2011
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9th Jun 2011 10:58pm
is perfect.
and: "His redeeming feature, at this moment in time, is the large bottle of good whisky in his hand." - I had a great grin for that one.
Some spelling and sentence structure nit-picks, but this story has almost a bit of a Carver feel without the "what the fuck?" aspect. Well enjoyed.
and: "His redeeming feature, at this moment in time, is the large bottle of good whisky in his hand." - I had a great grin for that one.
Some spelling and sentence structure nit-picks, but this story has almost a bit of a Carver feel without the "what the fuck?" aspect. Well enjoyed.
10th Jun 2011 6:27am
thankyou my dear, apologies for the spelling thought i had done pretty well this time around. Your work has a great humour as well, glad i could return the laugh.
