Alive For…

Small talk

With strangers

On sidewalks and subways


Dawn-defying diner counters


Catch the choir of

Dejected degenerates who

Drink their dreams and

Suck their spirits

‘Till both bottle and

Body are empty

Nothing there (to You)

Numb shadows on

Naugahyde stools (to You)


To me

These transients are treasures

Ever alive between the lines

Of my marble

I chisel their busts with

Ballpoint blade

Beer-bellied Davids to

Be later made

A Kerouac’d cliche I

Lie in wait where

Warm beer and cold women waltz

The last dance

At last call

In the last light of

Last night…

Most alive

When I’m beside


Who’s suddenly Somebody


Aware of the danger

That stumbling stranger

Could someday in someway be


–Liam Quills

Liam is a freelance writer living in Brooklyn. His nonfiction work has appeared in a variety of glass-art publications. He can be found, most nights, writing poetry on bar napkins. If you’d like to work with Liam, contact him via email;


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