attic-garage-operating room

by Elyce | Sep 10, 2025 | poems, stories

That’s somewhere my parents never went
The attic-garage-operating room
It’s the place you go to develop your art, rearrange your engine, and survive

My parents didn’t know the sacred grit of a dive bar
My mom and dad never fostered that ache
They didn’t experience the community of ripped upholstery and ashtrays

The map of life led me to these cashed-in, burnt-out venues because it must have understood me

I want to connect with others who are clinging on

Context is everything

Listen
The dive bar is for finding the guy next to you
Giving him a cheers
Lighting his cigarette
Playing his song
And seeing him next Wednesday

TYTY

by Elyce | May 24, 2025 | poems, stories

He fits in here like this place was built to take his luggage and hand him a room key.
There’s been absolutely no interruption.
It’s been like adding nicer pillows and better towels.
Having him here feels like we got new refrigerator magnets, but these ones have words of encouragement and not casual reasons to give up and find rope.