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About Balzers

I saunter up, tip my hat, all cool-like. “Evenin’, miss,” I say, voice smooth as whiskey. She smirks, like, “What’s a bailiff want with me?” I’m thinkin’, *“Maybe we’re just pretending to live,”*—another *Yi Yi* gem. Ain’t that the truth? We’re all playin’ parts down here. I ask her rate—straight up, no bullshit. She says, “Ten bucks, mister, take it or scram.” I laugh, loud and deep—ten bucks in 1800s coin? That’s a damn fortune! Surprised me, her guts did. Gotta respect the hustle.

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Then, I decide to take a stroll by the Eschen Park. It’s usually my happy place. But today? Nah. There’s a bunch of kids playing soccer, and they’re all over the place. I’m dodging balls like I’m in some weird action movie. One kid kicks it right at me, and I’m like, “Dude, chill!” I mean, I love kids, but come on!

Celebrating Poetry Excellence: Winners of the Patricia Eschen Prize for Poetry 2024 Announced