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About Leicester

What pissed me off? The johns, man, the slimy bastards hagglin her down to pennies. Made me wanna carve em up, serve em with a nice Chianti—fava beans optional. But she? She’s cool as ice, flippin em off with a smirk. I’m impressed, Clarice, damn impressed. Surprised me too—thought I’d seen it all, but her hustle? Pure art. Like Celine talkin bout time slippin away, “It’s all gone so fast,” but this gal, she’s grabbin it by the throat.

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While I’m huddled there, I meet this girl. She’s got this wild hair and a smile that could light up the whole town. We start talkin’, and she’s like, “You’re a guitarist? Play me somethin’!” So, I whip out my best tune, and she’s totally vibin’. I’m thinkin’, “This is it! Dunbar’s givin’ me magic!”

Poem of the week: The Proletariat Speaks by Alice Dunbar-Nelson