From the files
Photographs
The diner, culinary school at Forest Park, the car, the lace curtain, the animals, and one portrait from the summer of 2025.
2025
St. Louis Summer
That year the page was pictures. The city, the dogs, the music. Baby Huey and the concerts already have their place on the music wall. What I wrote beside the pictures was shorter than it looked.
What I believe is a private road. It belongs to the person on it. It is tied to the earth, and to whatever light in a person no machine has copied. I do not need the beginning settled. Someone, something, out there is bigger than me. I leave it there.
At work, in the diner uniform.
A work cap and a menu from a St. Louis diner I worked at.
My chef coat from culinary school at Forest Park.
The same coat, laid out wide.
Forest Park, from the driver's seat. March 2024.
The Amoco sign, Saint Louis, March 2024.
Honey Butter Biscuit.
One of the strays I took in.
Another rescue, curled up by the door.
A rescue cat, stretched out.
Majic.
St. Louis summer, 2025.
The lace curtain.
2024.
In the car, in a cap.
Sunglasses.
2017.
Majic, in the room.
The puppies.
The pack.
A Snap. The Saint Louis statue in Forest Park, and the founding line I kept on the picture.
The red trolley at Busch Stadium. My name is on the picture.
The stone head. My name is on the picture.
Saint Louis Summer, the graphic I made for the clip.
The strays have their own page. Strays I took in.
Not findings of fact. Not legal advice.