Thoughts of a Part Time Taxi Driver

By Paul MacPherson October 18, 1972 Going through Mom's old trunk full of memorabilia about my dad. Found this essay he wrote for an English assignment on stream of conscience narrative. Dad never finished high school but went back to school after he was married and had a young family at home. This was written … Continue reading Thoughts of a Part Time Taxi Driver

The Smell

seed-freckled strawberries decompose cheerfully fuzzily jar-born spaghetti sauce erupts contusions of mold silently once crispy lettuce lies eroded flaccidly pressed gray bologna best before date flaunted shamelessly lumpy fish chowder swims in congealed cream happily pizza remains stiffen drained of taste sullenly crusty body-less plastic-bagged head of irritating neighbour quietly stinking up my fridge.