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No Escape from Harm City
Notes from the End of Working Man Time
[Written December 2019]
I am in communication by various prosaic and arcane means with the following hard-working folks, who have left me some quotes concerning their condition, as all four of them have fled Harm City, the African American among them having chosen the only Maryland County with an active chapter of the KKK to live in.

Oliver, before his weigh-in
“I feel bad that Sean bought all those expensive hydration drinks. I’m good with orange Kool-Aid, sugar and water, the negro electrolyte!”

“Heath,” an active Baltimore City Police Detective
“More officers are going up on gun and drug charges. It’s embarrassing to say, but I believe more of us are corrupt than honest. It’s a dark day to be a cop.”

Megan, after work
The kids in the aisles are sword-fighting with the wrapping paper, the teenagers are all but fucking and jumping each others’ bones. This woman comes to my register, gnawing on a fuckin’ bone, “I’s sorry hon, but I had ta try one a dose wings at the wing bar before I bought one—you got a trash bag or sumptin’?” Good God, it blows my mind. Where do these people come from?
And here you come, my vagabond, my little hobo, withering away to nothing. You need something to eat—are you wearing cargo shorts over pants!
Well, you’re a sight for sore eyes, Baby.

Big Ron, at the bar
“Tending this bar at night is a thankless job for these older women. It’s just a matter of time before something terrible happens. And they can see it coming, step-by-step, through the front door to by that malt liquor and fortified wine.”
Elkin, homeless laborer, by text
“enjoying a coffee but I can see a tell in the form of a urine filled water bottle… There is no escape from b-mo…”

Have a merry Christmas one and all.
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