Month: October 2015

Charlie stands on the street corner, tall and lanky, tight dungarees, garrison belt with sharpened buckle, white socks, black keds. His dark wavy hair is slicked back in a duck’s ass, the pompadour drooping strategically over his forehead. His white t-shirt is tight to his skinny torso, arms sinewy, muscular, street tough. He carries a short black satin jacket, with pink piping, the word “Halos” written across the back. Too hot to wear, too cool to leave at home, it is summertime 1956, dead end New York street kids, and we are the coolest motherfuckers in town.  I am… Read more »