Christ, Not Again

by Steve Young

I was walking home trying to keep from looking anyone in the eye because every time I did they wanted change, or a cigarette or to know what the hell I thought I was looking at. I was so sick of it by now that I was ready to swing on anyone who looked at me wrong too, but becoming like everyone around you doesn’t help you understand why they are like that in the first place. I finally made it home and sat on the couch and pulled a huge hit off the bong. I could see the stairs from my couch and my neighbors came out and were fighting again. He was screaming at her and she was screaming back and then he backhanded her good; and then again and then again. I put down my bong to go out and stop it, but I gotta’ tell you, I noticed I walked pretty goddamn slow this time.


Steve Young lives in Phoenix and does not like you very much. He thinks you should check out Thieves Jargon.