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Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 16, 2014

He Knows All About It.


































Louis Shalako




He knows all about it.

He knows all about authority.

He knows all about bureaucrats.

He knows all about pain.

He knows all about pensions, and poverty, and deprivation.

He knows all about landlords.

He knows all about food banks.

He knows all about soup kitchens, and Christmas Hampers, and one hot meal a day.

He knows all about cops, and doctors and lawyers and judges, and public health officials.

He knows all about this town.

He knows all about its people.

And he knows all about being written off.

He knows all about tenements, and slumlords, and walking down the street, numb from the waist down.

He knows all about things that go bump in the night.

He knows all about losing his home.

He knows all about being booted.

He knows all about living in someone’s basement while he looks for another place.

He knows all about sleeping in his car.

He knows all about hunger and thirst, and the cold and the wet.

He knows all about the government.

He knows all about the insurance company.

He knows all about it, people—he knows all about it.

He knows all about you, doesn’t he?

He knows all about the Workplace Safety and Insurance Board.

He knows all about the ODSP and the CMHA and the OPP.

He knows all about it.

He knows all about the drop-in centre, and he knows all about your outreach program.

He knows all about a hot drink and one blanker per customer.

He knows all about Animal Control.

He knows all about men in white coats and carrying big nets.

He knows all about Tasers and .40 calibre Colts in a polished leather holster.

He knows all about N-5s and Form Ones and he knows all about the T-5000 once a year.

He knows he’d better not be late handing that in.

He knows all about his rights—and exactly what all that’s worth these days.

He knows exactly what he can do about it if he doesn’t like it.

He knows that nothing, absolutely nothing, is expected of him—nothing good that is.

He knows all of this very well indeed.

The only thing he doesn’t know is when it all might end.

He doesn’t know when there might be some relief.

He doesn’t know who might help him, or why they even should.

He doesn’t know how far he should go—or when he should go there.

He doesn’t know exactly where to draw that line in the sand.

He doesn’t know how to talk to you.

He doesn’t quite know how to get through to you people.

Until he figures that out, he really doesn’t know much at all, does he?


END

Friday, May 25, 2012

Life is a garden.


"No man, you gotta keep going. What am I gonna do, quit? That's not an option. You gotta keep on keepin on. Life's a garden, dig it and you make it work for you. You never give up man, that's my philosophy."

--David Spade as, 'Joe DIrt.'

With thanks: Read more: http://www.toomanyquotes.com/movies/joe-dirt#ixzz1vvtahU6x

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Excerpt from 'The Case of the Curious Killers.'

by Louis B. Shalako

c2010

All Rights Reserved



When one door closes, another one opens up somewhere else.

Life is a game. There are no rules.

Many are called, few are chosen.

The Lord works in mysterious ways.

Every morning I pray—

I wake up and say, “Thank you God for another sunrise;”

"And Jesus Christ, I sure hope it don’t rain…”



-from 'The Case of the Curious Killers,' coming November 1 from Shalako Publishing as an e-book in all formats. Check your favourite retailer's listings and ask for it by name!