jimmy jazz

this used to be the patio of a bar.

too young, i drank whiskey shots, warm beer.

it smelled like summer in the city, so garbage in the alley, inexplicably, pancakes, cigarette smoke.

ivy ate up the wall and it was close to claustrophobic crowded so

your sweaty skin would stick to your neighbors like a leather couch in the summer.

the reverberating three chord punk felt like the next mornings hangover.