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A Freudian Story

Streetlight Moon c Copyright 2013-2014 Bill Friday

Streetlight Moon
c Copyright 2013-2014 Bill Friday


I have three

photographic obsessions

the full moon,

the beach,

and dirty streets

I take pictures of them

with my phone,

8 megapixels at a time, more than

I take pictures of anything

else in the world

And of sunsets,

but only at the beach

If you lumped them

all together,

they tell a Freudian story

one that goes like this

I’m cold and far off

I’m dirty and hard

and the only beauty

I have left is fading


into dark.




© Copyright 2014 Bill Friday


3 a.m. at Cedars

hospital basement

Robots on the basement floor

at Cedars

stopping in their tracks

like cars

or a Roomba for the cats

three a.m. basement maze

a graveyard

the halls down which

Zombies of mercy shuffle


Copyright © 2014 Bill Friday

Disco Remix

Under the Boardwalk - Tom Tom Club

Under the Boardwalk – Tom Tom Club 1982






fuck this

disco remix

of Under the Boardwalk

like Studio fucking 54


with coffee


there are some days

when the words

flow like butter

over popcorn








Copyright © 2014 Bill Friday

Come Flooding Back

photo credit "We Were Strangers" c 2012 Redboy

photo credit “We Were Strangers” c 2012 Redboy

My hands smell

like dispensered soap

from the bathroom

inside Starbucks



like the hospital room

where my son died

all those years ago.




Copyright © 2014 Bill Friday

Lucky Seat

"Lucky Seat"  Copyright © 2014 Bill Friday

“Lucky Seat”
Copyright © 2014 Bill Friday


I thought about moving from this seat

and from the glare of the afternoon sun

as it closed my eyes in a squint

against my reflection

in the laptop screen


I thought about moving from this seat

and from the sting of the setting sun

as it burned itself three layers deep

into the skin

of my red right arm


I thought about moving from this seat

and from the warmth of all good things

that had not felt this right

for so long

to have its way with me


But I have written six poems in this seat

over the last two days

and I will be damned

if I’m going to do anything

to fuck this up today.



Copyright © 2014 Bill Friday

I Gave Up Writing Poetry

"Free Poetry" © 2014 Bill Friday

“Free Poetry” © 2014 Bill Friday

I gave up writing poetry

for the last time yesterday

right before I got talked back into it

by smiles

by circumstance

by words

oh, those damn persuasive words

and the way people look at you

when they think you

can do something they cannot.


© 2014 Bill Friday

Fifty Shades of Bullshit

bullshit x

Fifty shades of bullshit got your panties in a bunch

fiction in the place of real friction

of wet thighs

and gravel sighs

and a man’s rough hands where you settle for the touch of your own


Waste of time between life’s stages

replaced by dog-eared pages where fantasy isn’t real

wax fruit in place of a meal

hot wax on skin like in some video with music and a grainy feel

story never meant to last like you and I once did


I have read your kind before

a spider web in place of a door

and spilt perfume to cover the decay of what once passed for your tender soul

cracked and old and dry and dying

and lied to by so many, then so few

now just by you


Last look back at a life unfinished

at bodies and minds left diminished

by time, by the past, by struggle against what once convinced us

that we were our last and only

never get lonely partners for life

till I saw light


Fifty shades of bullshit got your panties in a bunch

trying to remember what didn’t need reading

pages were never meant for feeling what once was between us

heat in the place of a cold feel, of pulp in the space where you melt cold steel

of my rough hands as they touched what was

my own


© 2014 Bill Friday

This work first appeared in the anthology “…and it happened under cover”,  © 2014 Nightwing Publications.  To purchase this book, please visit their website or

DICHOTOMY: A brief meditation on the two poverties, as viewed through Dadaist metaphysical thought.



The need of nothing is not the same as the acceptance of nothing, no matter what it looks like when written… or read.

I need nothing.  I accept nothing.

Not the same.

The well-groomed man.  Lexus LFA Nürburgring.  Pair of Barker Black Ostrich shoes on his clean feet… No socks.  He has everything in this world, and nothing.  He needs nothing.  The homeless man.  Shopping cart.  Pair of Converse Magic Johnson basketball shoes on his dirty feet… No socks.  He has nothing in this world, and everything.  He accepts nothing.

Full car.  Empty heart.  Empty cart.  Full heart. 

They are NOT the same.

I have been neither homeless nor rich.  I wish to be neither.  I have needed nothing.  I have accepted nothing. 

And I prefer it. 


Copyright © 2014 Bill Friday

You loom, blushing…

Photo Credit c 2011 Dr. Andrew Steele

Photo Credit c 2011 Dr. Andrew Steele

You loom,


like the full moon

that rises,


through the clouds

at sunset.

c 2013 Bill Friday

“Will Ghostwrite For Food”

“Will Ghostwrite For Food”
c 2013 Bill Friday

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