1. the ugly  miserable  banal  things that some of us must endure on a daily basis are of little interest and consequence to those with peach smiles, and armchair lives.

    we rise early in slack-jawed mazes; already defeated from another day not yet begun;  already knowing that we will return home defeated. again. some of us cry on our husbands’ or wives’ shoulders. some of us cry alone in plastic corners, and those who do not cry or beg for mercy from listless  useless  gods, become

    spouse beaters

    rapists

    druggies

    or alcoholics.

    and some of us will also fail at those things. most of us will hate without knowing what or why we hate: we just hate for the black heart sake of it. and it is of a great and curious wonder how there is not more murder on the streets and in the work place.  mass vengeful slaughter would be just and conclusive.

    there are no more consequences to endure, to suffer, to fear,  or be vulnerable to at the end of a double barrel blast from an Ed or Frank.

    “He was so well-natured.” they will say,  as his brains dry on the break room fridge or the production line floor.

    and still some of us will not do or become any of those things,  because we are cowards; instead, we will sit in a hollow room lit only by a tiny computer screen picking our noses,  reeking of indifference, three or four glasses in, and wonder stupidly, 

    what will tomorrow bring?

    words and photos by Jay Halsey

     

  2. this ain’t poetry

    Some days  Almost all nights  After some days 

    I would wall myself  From everything  Living and otherwise

    On that night  I sat and ate peanuts  Watering my mostly-dead house fern

    Listening to cars splash through puddles  Of a retreating thunderstorm

    And I sometimes questioned  Like that night and others before it

    How could I face another round  Of the everyday  Tomorrow?

    The hope was all but lost  When shackled by a work week  That no longer worked

    I pondered those thoughts  As I had 500 times before  Wondering why I hadn’t any beer  To wash away the apathy  Or the nuts

    Better off without I thought  As I watched  My poor plant die right before me

    words and photos by jay halsey

     
  3. the well has run dry beneath a murderous noontime sun, and day laborers lean against a scorching brick wall, licking their dry worm lips while rolling toothpick thin cigarettes.

    words and photos by jay halsey

     
  4. the deal is dead.  forget about it.  throw it out.  leave it where it belongs: with the worms; the rats; with the cockroaches and maggots.

    words and photos by jay halsey