This begins a new series that documents conversations between two homeless gents who live in a large cosmopolitan city: HOEHANDLE & FEATHERLEGS.

Hoehandle Burk

Featherlegs Dupree

 

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.

FL: Cops?

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”.