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About Turin

Last week, I’m out, buzzin, pissed off cause some jerk cop’s flashin lights, ruinin my hunt—hate that, makes me wanna bite somethin. Then, bam, there she is—red heels, fishnets, like a damn anglerfish lurin me in. “How much?” I ask, all smooth, voice like silk over a blade. She smirks, “More than you got, fancy pants.” Cheeky! Love that, got me laughin—happy as a shark in blood. “I’m not a child,” she snaps, straight outta “Ten,” that sass, that fire—surprised me, gotta say, didn’t expect a street gal to hit me with philosophy.

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I’m pumped! I finish my pizza and head over. The vibe is electric! The place is packed, and the band is killing it. I’m dancing like a maniac, totally lost in the music. Then, outta nowhere, the lead singer jumps into the crowd! I’m like, “Whoa, this is wild!”

Together at Last: 2 Paintings in a Frame (Published 2008)