He was a dealer, a wheeler dealer. Greased back hair, pencil thin tie. He was a poster boy for tacky Used Car salesman. Yet he was everything to her. A knight in shining armor who had been there when she needed someone the most. Yes, she her the snickers and felt the stares when she walked through the mall with him or sat in a restaurant. The “what the hell a woman like her doing with a man like that” looks and whispered comments behind the back of their hands. As if she didn’t know they were talking about them. He was a better man than they’d ever have or be lucky enought to meet.
I run along the street vendors and colorful wares in the rickety streets, swiftly turning into one of the darker alleys of the fearless city, searching for the beacon. Finding it, I realize I am one step closer to the man I am looking for – a dealer in the most feared and banned things in this land – Words.
Drugs are so great
and these people provide them
It can also be for cards
Deal me in ace
Dealers are overall cool people
they know not to piss people off
Whatcha gonna do when I come for you
You a-hole
It was crystaline ecstay in a tube. In a needle. Breath in deep and the smoke crowds your lungs, fills your mind and soul and every recess of your body. Smoke is insidious. It’s the others you get to laugh at- as though the fear of somethign so bright- the sparkling
the thing was- well. She didn’t wanna quit. Thats what they always say- the ones she knew were out there, hiding on the street, and in the air, and even in her eyes if she looked to hard- stared for too long at a face that was quickly becoming a stranger
I was sitting at the stop light, changing the bags up and writing down my numbers, the deal was to make the exchange in 5 mins, the money was coming hard for the 4 pounds. I was now the dealer, and now I’m the criminal.
The kind that deal for watches, I hope. A pawn broker. He deals you your watch and you check to make sure it’s the good stuff, not the crap they grow in the ditch or cut with something unappealing.
She stares at him. She’s not sure why she even expected to find happiness in what he’s selling. There isn’t anywhere else she can turn though. And she feel so goddamn empty after the funeral. The funeral where everyone stared at her and expressed so much false sympathy and all she can feel is this looming, overwhelming emptiness, and the understanding that nothing is going to be the same anymore
the tires
squeaked clean
across the zig zaggity road.
her mother sighed
as the rubber left tracks on the perfect
porcelain kitchen.
she did not care.
because they are kids.
Drug dealers around the world come together to take over the world. Slowly realizing that the thing people are addicted of is escape from what they no longer want to see. The dealers realize that the hallucinations of drugs is now reality and the real reality of ones mind is escape.
The dealer wasn’t sure what to say. He looked at the girl in front of him — so fragile and broken, like a bird with shattered wings. He extended his hand to her and she grasped it with as much strength as she could muster.
drugs,
my love is your drug kind of love,
cars,
used car salesmen,
that time in college when I had to go to NA for a class,
my abilities to talk people into doing what I want them to do, aka make deals,
& a person i know who got taken from his home as a kid because his parents where making meth.
An ace of spades, a jack of spades, black jack. Once again dealt a perfect hand, but not of my accord. Not through skill, nor by love, nor by my will. Will my life forever be in the hands of another, picking my destiny by his hands, by what is given to me by the dealer? I’d like to meet him, this dealer who seems to hold my life in his hands.
“Don’t you dare go to him,” she hissed through her fangs. “You go back to him and you can’t come back here! Ever!”
Yvonne grimaced up at her mother. She arched her shoulders forward, like a cat about to pounce, and bristled in her seat. Her feet snapped straight ahead, her fingers wound into fists, and she felt a trail of oil from her stomach to her throat burn aflame.
“Goodbye” was all she could say. In a whirling passing of time, she found herself in the car, then on a street lined with decaying bricks, and then in the shack her dealer called home.
The dealer cast his steady gaze around at the card players. Two women, and two men sat at the circular table. One woman wore expensive clothing, a feathered pale pink boa draped elegantly across her narrow shoulders. Her honey brown hair was chin length and immaculate, as was the rest of her appearance. But for all this perfection, she seemed to be inwardly nervous. For with one hand she held her cards up in a unwavering grip, while the other hand was mindlessly stroking the end of the boa, pulling feathers from it without really realizing it.
The dealer grimaced lightly in pity.
The casino’s janitors weren’t going to be happy. He cast his eyes round to the man next to her. He was rather heavy, the buttons of his jacket beginning to strain around his pot belly. He was sweating profusely, and kept dabbing at his balding head and neck with a worn handkerchief.
His eyes traveled next to the other man across from him at the table. He was more eccentric with his short hair swooped up in the front looking, if anything, more cartoonish than stylish. A short cropped beard graced his face, and his striped suit was a garish color of purple. He seemed completely at ease, and leaned back in his chair, trying to keep a smug grin from spreading across his thin lips.
A little sniffle brought his attention to the last player at the table. A heavier woman sat dapping at her little red nose with a wadded up tissue, a small box provided her with new ones and her unfortunate coat pocket for disposal. Her hair was rolled up into an elegant french twist, and her outrageously sequined blue dress sparkled in the dim light every time she moved to wipe her dripping nose.
He felt even worse gazing upon her.
The coat was a Ralph Lauren.
The room was silent all except for the breathing and occasional shifting from one foot to the other from the crowd. Pushing her boa up over her shoulder, the first player laid down her cards and pursed her lips. Next played the balding gentleman. With slightly more confidence, he placed his cards on the table. Leaning back, he loosened the collar of his silk shirt. The man in the purple suit leaned forward so all of the legs of his chair were touching the ground, and placed his cards on the table, by far the most confident of the players so far. Clearly comfortable with this position, he leaned back again and crossed his arms in triumph.
Last played the sick woman. She put them down without so much as a flicker of emotion, and dabbed at her nose. Gasps echoed through the crowd, and when the purple man saw her hand, he was nearly sent over backwards in surprise. He had just enough luck, however, that his chair fell forward instead of back, and he landed with a stunned ‘thud’; his face looking almost as purple as his coat. The next mans eyes got very wide, blinked, and then he laughed once, loudly, and leaned back, clapping a hand to his eyes and grinning stupidly. The first woman–who had been again stroking the feather boa–stilled her hand and stared in open amazement.
dealer is a person that make negotiations.
I most deal with my project.
Report information, I have already structured it so is only generate tables and present them .
Just that.
So I’ll be alright.
Just have to do it.
The group around the table had dwindled down to just the three of them. Each remained impassive, with an apparent unawareness of one another, as their cards were distributed by swift flicks of the young woman’s wrist.
A like Aureliano, the dealers never deserved a second chance and were wiped off the face of the earth. Up in clouds of dust, shells, and shattered wood they were sprayed into oblivion and disappeared into the storm.
“This is my dealer, Avery.”
“Avery? Doesn’t sound like the name of a high-profile arms dealer.”
Jack grinned at me, “She’s not your typical high-profile arms dealer. Just wait.”
We waited. And waited. Until a little old lady stepped through the door, her face breaking into a smile. “Jack!”
“Avery.”
I’m not the drug dealer, im the goat dealer. I shall give you a goat for you to gloat. And now it is time to seal the deal and sell the goat, to the one that has the most nerve to seal the deal. Deal me a goat, spill me a moat.
Probably the most important person in the world. Gets things done, makes problems go away, fixes left and right. Commonly seen with a negative view because of its association to drugs. The best and most famous people are dealers of some type.
“I’m at my wits end, Kent. Emily, she…she just can’t stop using drugs. I’ve tried everything, but it’s more than an addiction. She’s obsessed, she’s let them swallow her whole and she doesn’t even realize that it’s tearing us apart.” Barbara cradled her head in her hands and sobbed. “My baby girl is a monster.”
Kent sighed heavily and rubbed comforting circles in her back. “What about hiding the drugs or getting rid of them—”
She laughed bitterly. “That’s useless. She knows every dealer in town. She’ll just make a call and it’ll be back in her hands in less than three seconds.”
I knew every card dealer in the casino personally, so I was put at a table with a machine and had to deal with the clicks and whirs of the aces and spades and hearts and jacks being shuffled and spewed at me. At this point, it was me against the mechanical dealer. No one else bid on my money – the owner wanted me to lose. He wanted me, for once in my life, not to walk away with double or triple the amount I had walked in with.
I walked out with quadruple the amount that night.
Dealer. That’s what they call me around here. Not that I deal in good, more like secrets. I spread teh secrets of high society’s finest to other blue bloods in return for other secrets. Secret trafficking is a newr trade but after the end of the world, it is impossible to know who to trust.
Archie was a car dealer in the west end of Toronto. it wasn’t glamorous but as a high school dropout you couldn’t be picky. Most guys dropped out in his neighborhood. Granted most were drug dealers but he he got a girl pregnant at 14 and he needed to support her.
Dealer of problems. That’s what his work is, to deal with problems other than his own. When wa sthe last time he looked on his own worries? He’s a selfless friend, often running to help when needed…
she used to drive around in her mothers pink barbie car
making chops down the suburban blocks,
all the kids were fucked up.
those little pills.
We climbed the night like a mountain,
only to tumble right back to the bottom
the very next day.
He chewed his gum while he talked. I didn’t even want to buy the car, I just wanted to talk to him. I loved listening to him passionately describe every little detail about why this car was perfect for me. Somehow, in my mind, I imagined he was describing every detail as to how he was perfect for me.
welcome to your first day of dealer training here at the okeyfunokee casino. your job is to make sure that everyone feels like a winner but that the house is never a loser. look around the room you are the best of the best.
The dealer was an unknown man. No one really knew their dealer, after all. They were just a shadow, an ominous figure that no one really knew the name of. He was always, ‘The Dealer.’ And what he dealt, that would remain a mystery as well. No one knew if he dealt opiates or caffeine pills.
The dealer triggers a series of emotions from those who know and don’t know him. For those who think they can trust him, they sense that they are close with him. For those who don’t know, he is an intimidating figure who cannot be trusted. And can he be trusted? He’s a dealer, after all.
Maybe one day i’ll be the dealer. i’ll be like fate, dealing out new destinies and ideas to anyone who actually gives a shit. Drug dealers are just scared little boys out to make a profit, and me? I’m just the dealer of wishes, and inspiration. I sit back and watch as people deal with deals they don’t remember signing the contract for. They deal with people making deals that they don’t understand, they deal with dumps from girlfriends and boyfriends who had just broken their plan.
He was a dealer, a wheeler dealer. Greased back hair, pencil thin tie. He was a poster boy for tacky Used Car salesman. Yet he was everything to her. A knight in shining armor who had been there when she needed someone the most. Yes, she her the snickers and felt the stares when she walked through the mall with him or sat in a restaurant. The “what the hell a woman like her doing with a man like that” looks and whispered comments behind the back of their hands. As if she didn’t know they were talking about them. He was a better man than they’d ever have or be lucky enought to meet.
I run along the street vendors and colorful wares in the rickety streets, swiftly turning into one of the darker alleys of the fearless city, searching for the beacon. Finding it, I realize I am one step closer to the man I am looking for – a dealer in the most feared and banned things in this land – Words.
Drugs are so great
and these people provide them
It can also be for cards
Deal me in ace
Dealers are overall cool people
they know not to piss people off
Whatcha gonna do when I come for you
You a-hole
yo
growing up what did you wanna be……? A dealer, a hug dealer. Everyone, free hugs! Need a hug just come to me the hug dealer!!!!
It was crystaline ecstay in a tube. In a needle. Breath in deep and the smoke crowds your lungs, fills your mind and soul and every recess of your body. Smoke is insidious. It’s the others you get to laugh at- as though the fear of somethign so bright- the sparkling
the thing was- well. She didn’t wanna quit. Thats what they always say- the ones she knew were out there, hiding on the street, and in the air, and even in her eyes if she looked to hard- stared for too long at a face that was quickly becoming a stranger
I was sitting at the stop light, changing the bags up and writing down my numbers, the deal was to make the exchange in 5 mins, the money was coming hard for the 4 pounds. I was now the dealer, and now I’m the criminal.
The kind that deal for watches, I hope. A pawn broker. He deals you your watch and you check to make sure it’s the good stuff, not the crap they grow in the ditch or cut with something unappealing.
She stares at him. She’s not sure why she even expected to find happiness in what he’s selling. There isn’t anywhere else she can turn though. And she feel so goddamn empty after the funeral. The funeral where everyone stared at her and expressed so much false sympathy and all she can feel is this looming, overwhelming emptiness, and the understanding that nothing is going to be the same anymore
the tires
squeaked clean
across the zig zaggity road.
her mother sighed
as the rubber left tracks on the perfect
porcelain kitchen.
she did not care.
because they are kids.
Punctured-
teetering
on moonbeams or sunspots,
edges or whirlpools that suck down
and under…
but not really sure..
just skin upon bones
and bones under skin.
Drug dealers around the world come together to take over the world. Slowly realizing that the thing people are addicted of is escape from what they no longer want to see. The dealers realize that the hallucinations of drugs is now reality and the real reality of ones mind is escape.
The dealer wasn’t sure what to say. He looked at the girl in front of him — so fragile and broken, like a bird with shattered wings. He extended his hand to her and she grasped it with as much strength as she could muster.
She let out her last breath and they soared.
drugs,
my love is your drug kind of love,
cars,
used car salesmen,
that time in college when I had to go to NA for a class,
my abilities to talk people into doing what I want them to do, aka make deals,
& a person i know who got taken from his home as a kid because his parents where making meth.
An ace of spades, a jack of spades, black jack. Once again dealt a perfect hand, but not of my accord. Not through skill, nor by love, nor by my will. Will my life forever be in the hands of another, picking my destiny by his hands, by what is given to me by the dealer? I’d like to meet him, this dealer who seems to hold my life in his hands.
Poet n dont noet
I met the dealer and bought the peeler, i figured i better not steeler
“Don’t you dare go to him,” she hissed through her fangs. “You go back to him and you can’t come back here! Ever!”
Yvonne grimaced up at her mother. She arched her shoulders forward, like a cat about to pounce, and bristled in her seat. Her feet snapped straight ahead, her fingers wound into fists, and she felt a trail of oil from her stomach to her throat burn aflame.
“Goodbye” was all she could say. In a whirling passing of time, she found herself in the car, then on a street lined with decaying bricks, and then in the shack her dealer called home.
The dealer cast his steady gaze around at the card players. Two women, and two men sat at the circular table. One woman wore expensive clothing, a feathered pale pink boa draped elegantly across her narrow shoulders. Her honey brown hair was chin length and immaculate, as was the rest of her appearance. But for all this perfection, she seemed to be inwardly nervous. For with one hand she held her cards up in a unwavering grip, while the other hand was mindlessly stroking the end of the boa, pulling feathers from it without really realizing it.
The dealer grimaced lightly in pity.
The casino’s janitors weren’t going to be happy. He cast his eyes round to the man next to her. He was rather heavy, the buttons of his jacket beginning to strain around his pot belly. He was sweating profusely, and kept dabbing at his balding head and neck with a worn handkerchief.
His eyes traveled next to the other man across from him at the table. He was more eccentric with his short hair swooped up in the front looking, if anything, more cartoonish than stylish. A short cropped beard graced his face, and his striped suit was a garish color of purple. He seemed completely at ease, and leaned back in his chair, trying to keep a smug grin from spreading across his thin lips.
A little sniffle brought his attention to the last player at the table. A heavier woman sat dapping at her little red nose with a wadded up tissue, a small box provided her with new ones and her unfortunate coat pocket for disposal. Her hair was rolled up into an elegant french twist, and her outrageously sequined blue dress sparkled in the dim light every time she moved to wipe her dripping nose.
He felt even worse gazing upon her.
The coat was a Ralph Lauren.
The room was silent all except for the breathing and occasional shifting from one foot to the other from the crowd. Pushing her boa up over her shoulder, the first player laid down her cards and pursed her lips. Next played the balding gentleman. With slightly more confidence, he placed his cards on the table. Leaning back, he loosened the collar of his silk shirt. The man in the purple suit leaned forward so all of the legs of his chair were touching the ground, and placed his cards on the table, by far the most confident of the players so far. Clearly comfortable with this position, he leaned back again and crossed his arms in triumph.
Last played the sick woman. She put them down without so much as a flicker of emotion, and dabbed at her nose. Gasps echoed through the crowd, and when the purple man saw her hand, he was nearly sent over backwards in surprise. He had just enough luck, however, that his chair fell forward instead of back, and he landed with a stunned ‘thud’; his face looking almost as purple as his coat. The next mans eyes got very wide, blinked, and then he laughed once, loudly, and leaned back, clapping a hand to his eyes and grinning stupidly. The first woman–who had been again stroking the feather boa–stilled her hand and stared in open amazement.
Bless their fictional hearts..
The guy who delivers my boyfriend has changed our relationship. I don’t know what he’s giving him, but I hope he continues
dealer is a person that make negotiations.
I most deal with my project.
Report information, I have already structured it so is only generate tables and present them .
Just that.
So I’ll be alright.
Just have to do it.
The group around the table had dwindled down to just the three of them. Each remained impassive, with an apparent unawareness of one another, as their cards were distributed by swift flicks of the young woman’s wrist.
the drug dealer, the card dealer and the car dealer all walked into a bar…
A like Aureliano, the dealers never deserved a second chance and were wiped off the face of the earth. Up in clouds of dust, shells, and shattered wood they were sprayed into oblivion and disappeared into the storm.
“This is my dealer, Avery.”
“Avery? Doesn’t sound like the name of a high-profile arms dealer.”
Jack grinned at me, “She’s not your typical high-profile arms dealer. Just wait.”
We waited. And waited. Until a little old lady stepped through the door, her face breaking into a smile. “Jack!”
“Avery.”
I’m not the drug dealer, im the goat dealer. I shall give you a goat for you to gloat. And now it is time to seal the deal and sell the goat, to the one that has the most nerve to seal the deal. Deal me a goat, spill me a moat.
Probably the most important person in the world. Gets things done, makes problems go away, fixes left and right. Commonly seen with a negative view because of its association to drugs. The best and most famous people are dealers of some type.
“I’m at my wits end, Kent. Emily, she…she just can’t stop using drugs. I’ve tried everything, but it’s more than an addiction. She’s obsessed, she’s let them swallow her whole and she doesn’t even realize that it’s tearing us apart.” Barbara cradled her head in her hands and sobbed. “My baby girl is a monster.”
Kent sighed heavily and rubbed comforting circles in her back. “What about hiding the drugs or getting rid of them—”
She laughed bitterly. “That’s useless. She knows every dealer in town. She’ll just make a call and it’ll be back in her hands in less than three seconds.”
I knew every card dealer in the casino personally, so I was put at a table with a machine and had to deal with the clicks and whirs of the aces and spades and hearts and jacks being shuffled and spewed at me. At this point, it was me against the mechanical dealer. No one else bid on my money – the owner wanted me to lose. He wanted me, for once in my life, not to walk away with double or triple the amount I had walked in with.
I walked out with quadruple the amount that night.
Dealer. That’s what they call me around here. Not that I deal in good, more like secrets. I spread teh secrets of high society’s finest to other blue bloods in return for other secrets. Secret trafficking is a newr trade but after the end of the world, it is impossible to know who to trust.
Archie was a car dealer in the west end of Toronto. it wasn’t glamorous but as a high school dropout you couldn’t be picky. Most guys dropped out in his neighborhood. Granted most were drug dealers but he he got a girl pregnant at 14 and he needed to support her.
fdsfsddsfdsfsdfsdfds dfsdfd
Dealer of problems. That’s what his work is, to deal with problems other than his own. When wa sthe last time he looked on his own worries? He’s a selfless friend, often running to help when needed…
I’d like to know how it work?
she used to drive around in her mothers pink barbie car
making chops down the suburban blocks,
all the kids were fucked up.
those little pills.
We climbed the night like a mountain,
only to tumble right back to the bottom
the very next day.
He chewed his gum while he talked. I didn’t even want to buy the car, I just wanted to talk to him. I loved listening to him passionately describe every little detail about why this car was perfect for me. Somehow, in my mind, I imagined he was describing every detail as to how he was perfect for me.
welcome to your first day of dealer training here at the okeyfunokee casino. your job is to make sure that everyone feels like a winner but that the house is never a loser. look around the room you are the best of the best.
The dealer was an unknown man. No one really knew their dealer, after all. They were just a shadow, an ominous figure that no one really knew the name of. He was always, ‘The Dealer.’ And what he dealt, that would remain a mystery as well. No one knew if he dealt opiates or caffeine pills.
The dealer triggers a series of emotions from those who know and don’t know him. For those who think they can trust him, they sense that they are close with him. For those who don’t know, he is an intimidating figure who cannot be trusted. And can he be trusted? He’s a dealer, after all.
Maybe one day i’ll be the dealer. i’ll be like fate, dealing out new destinies and ideas to anyone who actually gives a shit. Drug dealers are just scared little boys out to make a profit, and me? I’m just the dealer of wishes, and inspiration. I sit back and watch as people deal with deals they don’t remember signing the contract for. They deal with people making deals that they don’t understand, they deal with dumps from girlfriends and boyfriends who had just broken their plan.