This begins a new series that documents conversations between two homeless gents who live in a large cosmopolitan city: HOEHANDLE & FEATHERLEGS.
The following conversation took place at a city park:
HH: Featherlegs! I thought you were …were uh maybe dead from those spring rains.
FL: Naw they made us break camp and go to a mission.
HH: Oh shit, which one?
FL: Catholic one on 3rd. Stinking feet and farts all night.
HH: Got any drinking liquor?
Featherlegs pulls out a plastic pint of Ancient Age from his tattered coat pocket. The men enjoy a drink.
FL: Where you hanging at?
HH: This park. Sleep over in those bushes.
HH: Not enough to speak of. Been a week of peace so far. The library’s over at that end and they are liberal with the shitters.
FL: Been keeping up with the news?
HH: Every day.
FL: Hoehandle, that’s what I always liked about you. I don’t see a newspaper for a month and I run into you and bam- you know every fucking thing going on in the world. So, what’s been going on out there since I last laid eyes on you?
HH: Putin mainly.
FL: What’s that? Farts?
HH: He’s pretty much the King of Russia.
FL: It’s a he. So, what’s the King of Russia been up to that affects me?
HH: Not much I guess that should trouble you. He’s been messing around with our government, trying to screw things up.
FL: What for? It’s screwed up enough as it is.
HH: Anyway, it looks like Putin liked Trump enough to give him a boost and well a shit storm has broke out.
FL: Sounds to me like the pock ‘a lips.
HH: The what? Pass me the bottle.
FL: The POCK A LIPS. My momma used to teach Sunday School before she became a drunk. Told us about the end times, Jesus coming back. The pock a lips.
HH: Apocalypse. You mean the apocalypse.
FL: What’d I say? You hungry?
HH: Always. Want to pool?
FL: Hell yes.
The pair unwrapped their possessions and dined on pork and beans, questionable hot dogs and three beers they purchased from 7-11. Come back soon for more of their interactions.
Until then, the boys say “see ya later”.