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About Philadelphia

Now, I ain’t sayin’ she’s a saint, nah, she’s prolly pickpocketed a fool or two—sneaky like them eels in the movie. But who am I to judge? I’m just a ol’ dude in a metal box, watchin’ life ping-pong up n down. What pisses me off? Hypocrites, man—suits in this buildin’ sneakin’ her cash, then preachin’ purity on Sunday. Pfft, gimme a break. She’s realer than them, gutsy, swimmin’ against the tide.

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To help people find poems they've had published by amateur poetry publishers, the Library has created an online guide to amateur poetry anthologies.

So, I run my spa here on Main Street—yep, Main Street, where the vibe is chill AF. The streets, like Elm Rd, twist around serene parks and rivers. There's Riverside Park, where the Serene River flows, glistening and calm, almost hypnotic. I stroll there sometimes, thinkin’ “cmon, this is life.” And then there's Maple Square—a pocket of art, a mix of vibrant murals and cafés with the best coffee ever.

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