billfriday.com

fictionary… 8 megapixel artist… bloody awful poet.

by its cover

This face, a book.

Judged by its cover.

A pair of eyes,

if you’re interested enough to read. But no book tells the whole story. You need to be the story to know it. Maybe one day you’ll tell someone, a stranger, a friend… doesn’t matter… “I read that book, once”. But you didn’t know the story.

This face, a book.

Judged by it’s cover.

a dog

An elegy in metaphor, or some such construct of modern poetic license. Anyway, this morning I was feeling all dog-honoring. Therefore, to all the dogs.

Bill

flight

Rest

in that moment

when

all else is to risk

defeat

Until the next

when

you take flight.

just me

I could’ve had water,

I didn’t want tea.

I might’ve gone out,

But I kept it just me.

cure

Day 6. Combining graphic art and poetry. The full treatment. Back tomorrow with my eye on Long Beach.

Bill

buying gas

The man with the tank bigger than mine paid with a hundred for “Twenty-five on number two”. The guy behind the bulletproof glass held the hundred up to the light to see if it was real. When the change came back, the man held a twenty up to the light to see if IT was real… then smiled.

I laughed.

not empty

I had a conversation with a friend the other day. For as long as I’ve known them, we’ve had these conversations, like if you were talking with someone over the same perpetually hot, never empty coffee for weeks at a time.

The kind of conversation with no beginning or end.

And at some point, each of us talked about emptiness. About the feeling of having nothing left inside ourselves to give to others, because we have nothing left inside ourselves for us.

The friend told me about the times I was there for them but, for whatever reason, had forgotten.

Then the friend told me this…

“Bill, you are not empty.”

I wanted to argue, but I’m smarter than that. Barely. So I wrote this note to myself, instead.

And now, I share it with you.

“You are not empty.”

boots

hide and seek

A spontaneous game of hide and seek between an alley and a vacant lot. In a bold moment of childlike faith, two kids hid themselves in plain sight, behind a weather-worn For Lease sign.

In case you wondered, at the end of the game, they weren’t “it”.

because

NaBloPoMo 2018 will be (for me) a combination of Instagram-friendly posts… of short poems and square photos… in anticipation of an entirely new direction for 2019. This month, I will also be giving details on my very soon forthcoming third book, Mourning Person, and any other really nifty information on what’s new with our publishing house, Silver Star Laboratory.

I’m glad you’re here. See you tomorrow.

Bill

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