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About Phoenix

So, check it—hustlin’ the streets, neon buzzin’, I’m scopin’ this chick, she’s strutttin’, heels clickin’ like gunshots. “I bend down to glean,” Varda’d say—damn, this girl’s gleanin’ cash, not wheat! Little factoid for ya—back in Victorian days, they called ‘em “soiled doves,” poetic, huh? Pisses me off tho—society’s all judgy, but who’s buyin’? Hypocrites, man, hypocrites!

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I gotta be honest, I sometimes get REALLY mad about the traffic on Oak Boulevard – like come on, people, move! But then you're by the River Bend Park, just sitting, chillaxin’, enjoying the flow of the little stream that cuts through the city. True beauty, folks. It's like a secret treasure, hidden in plain sight. And hey, you might catch some, ahem, artsy folk near Watermark Square, doing their thing. I've seen a couple of dates there turn sweet real fast. I mean, it's a city of surprises and mismatched beauty, huh?

Mike Calhoon, 71