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    Bulletproof Smile
    Bulletproof Smile
    Bulletproof Smile
    Ebook79 pages39 minutes

    Bulletproof Smile

    By Tony Nesca

    ()

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    About this ebook

    About the Book

    Stories and poems about love and hate. Stories and poems about love and hate. Tony Nesca writes in a unique free flowing style blending street writing with rock and roll.

    About the Author

    Tony Nesca was born in Torino, Italy in 1965 and moved to Canada at the age of three. He was raised in Winnipeg but relocated back to Italy several times until finally settling in Winnipeg in 1980. He taught himself how to play guitar and formed an original rock band playing the local bars for several years. At the age of twenty-seven he traded his guitar for a Commodore 64 and started writing seriously. He has published six chapbooks of stories and poems (which he used to sell straight out of his knapsack at local dives and bookstores), six novels, four books of poetry, one short story collection, and has been an active contributor to the underground lit scene for fifteen years, being published in innumerable magazines both online and in print. He currently resides in Winnipeg.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherUkiyoto Publishing
    Release dateMay 15, 2019
    ISBN9780463563519
    Bulletproof Smile

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      Book preview

      Bulletproof Smile - Tony Nesca

      Bulletproof Smile

      TONY NESCA

      Ukiyoto Publishing

      [Scan the QR Code and let the Author see your View]

      All global publishing rights are held by

      Ukiyoto Publishing

      Published in 2019

      Content Copyright © Tony Nesca

      Reserved rights by Screamin’ Skull Press

      www.screaminskullpress.com

      All rights reserved.

      No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in a retrieval system, in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher

      The moral right of the author has been asserted

      This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated, without the publisher’s prior consent, in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published.

      DAY AT THE WELFARE OFFICE

      Goddamn wind tore at my skin like razor-sharp do-nothing smiles we stood in line at the welfare office January winter screaming down our necks all of us shuffling our feet shoulders bunched weak smiles in the morning night, yeah, morning night 7 AM dark sky cars racing by throwing mud and grease and shit in our direction that damn snow piled three feet high on either side of us sidewalk covered in ice man we was wondering, we was wondering, where in the holy all-mighty purpose did we fuck up so immensely ugly and pointless to end up here cuz the slow-easy-movement, the killing-field-assassins are all around us and the mojo gone distant guy beside me lights smoke smiles I smile back he’s got beef-jerky hands shaking last night’s drunk off takes a bite of something warm,

      hey man he offers me a bite,

      sure I say what the hell now, right?

      ain’t nothing worse buddy, you okay?

      I is alright...

      so what’s your story, where you live?

      taking care of my mom right now, staying with her

      alright man, alright…what you doing here then?

      dying slowly, like everyone else, right?…everything cool with you?

      nah, feeling shitty man, we’re all feeling shitty, ya dig?

      yeah, alright

      minus fucking 30 out here, you’d think those fucking jive assholes would let us in…lookit them, you can see them walking around in there!…OPEN A FUCKING DOOR FOR CHRIST’S SAKE!!!

      Somewhere up the line few guys started arguing about something stupid, Indian fellow front teeth missing, white guy black eye and booze on his breath racing all the way down the line right up to us, and it continues, it continues in the face of all that’s holy and sacred and almighty Zeus shrugs his shoulders and weeps and the wind picks up something fierce tearing at our skin, sucking on our bone marrow freezing our booze-shriveled minds and for a damn second, I shit you not, it felt like I was going to die, goddamn I thought, I’m going to die right fucking here on the street in front of the welfare office, hmmmmm – I shook my fist at the sky, bowed my head and waited but death didn’t come only more pricks and needles of ice and wind stabbing away at my very existence and I grit my teeth, fuck it man, you ain’t

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