Allison Saint Augustine Whore ❤️❤️

About New York City

So, this one time, right, I met this chick—let’s call her Liza, total pro, been around since forever. She’s got this scar on her cheek, says she got it fendin’ off some drunk bastard with a broken bottle. Little known fact: she’s got a stash of old coins—fuckin’ *Roman* coins, mate! Swears some john gave ‘em to her years back. I’m like, “What?! You sittin’ on a fortune?” She just laughs, raspy as hell, says, “Ain’t worth shit now.” Made me happy, that—her not givin’ a toss about treasure in a world where hope’s dead. Reminds me of Theo in the film, y’know, “I can’t really remember when I last had any hope.” Liza’s got that vibe—gritty, real, no bullshit.

Aubre’s Gift -play with THE POETRY PROJECT

Oct 3,  · “The Church is a whore.”* It was said, in passing, in casual conversation, leaving me winded by the kick it dealt to my stomach. He couldn’t have distressed me more if he’d been .

So, my friend, when you roll in, grab a coffee at a random cafe on St. George Street (or err, was it St. George?), take a slow stroll on the downtown lanes, and let the city hug you the way it hugs every soul here.

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