Political writing and exploring the human condition.
For more of my writing, check out my Medium page.
Like Kendrick Lamar, I was born in 1987, the end of the Ronald Reagan era. I came of age as a millennial just outside Seattle, Washington. But I didn't listen to grunge. At least then.
By Johnny P11 months ago in Beat
Selfie sticks and cameras attached to GorillaPods littered the streets. Every person held one. They spoke to their lenses with theatrical flair.
By Johnny P11 months ago in Fiction
I opened her inbox to check if the email went through. And there it was. A message from Eve4Eve, one line below the confirmation email for our law school reunion.
By Johnny P12 months ago in Fiction
Whenever I want to think of him I grab the glove above my desk Perched up high on a cabinet Looking down on all the rest I smell its leather and feel its knots
By Johnny P2 years ago in Poets
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Nobody thought telepathy or teletacks were real decades ago either.
By Johnny P2 years ago in Fiction
Michael Haggerty awoke to violent rumblings. They felt and sounded like jet engines taking off. He opened his eyes, but was blinded by light streaming through a porthole next to his bed. He watched as a helicopter disappeared into the blue sky.