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motherfucker, personal narrative non fiction, poems, rap music, riad galayini, branding, celebrities, by beth lapides, tom jarmusch, tyler sedustine, tupac unreleased mp3, mp3 tupac shakur, kevin dillon, literature, all eyez on me, jack straw., california, local punk band, feature film action/adventure, battle dress uniform, bulletinboard,
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They say prison never leaves a man, that you can tell by the set of a guy’s shoulders, the tension there. I didn’t have to worry about my shoulders relaxing, the tear said it all. I left ear let my hand fall from my face and brought my fist down on top of the white TV. The Astros came back on, losing 3-0. Fuck. Jumping the counter, left ear I walked outside, where it was so hot and humid I could hardly breathe, so bright I couldn’t see. Not like it mattered: I already knew what was out there. To the right left ear lay the inner city, reduced to a smudged gray outline against a dirty sky, to the left, the highway stretched flat and endless, running through whatever sleepy Texas town it happened to find, towns with names like Lukenbachen, population three hundred.
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