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About Palermo

Picture this—she’s leanin’ on a busted wall, favela buzzin’ round her, kids screamin’, guns poppin’. “Knockout Ned thought he could change the game,” I’d narrate, “but Whore? She IS the game.” She’s got scars, tales, and a laugh that cuts deep. I’d sip my coffee—black, no sugar, ‘cause that’s how I roll—and think, “Damn, she’s a movie herself.” Exaggeratin’? Maybe. But ain’t that life? Big, messy, wild?

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Finally, I get to the lady’s place. She’s sweet, but man, she talks a lot. I’m tryin’ to measure the space for the table, and she’s tellin’ me about her cat, Gino. “Gino loves to sit on the table,” she says. I’m thinkin’, “Lady, I’m here to build, not to hear about your cat’s life story!” But I nod and smile.

Amidst The Fire, I Am Not Burnt – Surface Reading