All Articles by Chad W. Lutz


there’s a

guy that sits

at the intersection


of MacArthur

and Fairmont

in a black leather


jacket and

black leather

hat, never smiles


until one day

I’m holding

a Fleetwood Mac


record in

my hands

and he stands up


off his

crate and yells

“Fleetwood Mac is the shit!”


so am I,


the shame


of not wanting

to give it to him

keeps me


from being

able to



the man



The Perfect Goodnight

The noise never changes.

Not quite the stroke of midnight,

Not quite the hour of day;


It’s traffic, restless motion.

There’s time for that.

There’s time for money

And time for duty,

A time for obligations

And a time for necessity.


But, right now?


Now is the time to sit and listen,

To wait for the rain to start falling,

Instead of scrambling inside

When the sun’s out,

Instead of hoping for morning

When there’s a perfectly good night.