oneloveasshole

le 16 août 2026

Steve Anwyll — Sun, 16 Aug 2026 20:58:27 GMT

When I see him shuffling I remember yesterday. A lull, a moment stolen to look out the open door. The action is nothing like it used to be so any movement is something. The quarter is changing. They always do. But it’s never in the direction I’m hoping for.

The Shuffler was jaywalking same as always. Though now there’s more traffic than there ever used …

jeudi 09 juillet

Steve Anwyll — Thu, 09 Jul 2026 23:34:36 GMT

I leave in a rush. I want to get some typing done so I run the red light at Notre-Dame and Saint-Joseph. Hey! I look over my shoulder. Shit. Two cops. The first one asks in French if I know what I did. I answer in English. They’re aggressive. I’m passive. I nearly laugh when the other one says if this was a car...because it’s a bike.

mercredi 08 juillet

Steve Anwyll — Wed, 08 Jul 2026 23:01:51 GMT

I wake up tired. Getting out of bed is a chore. Down the ladder the heat comes up to greet me. I take a cold shower and feel better for it. But the exhaustion, it clings worse than the air. Outside, there’s a sweaty bag of dog turds where I usually sit. Smoking a cig at the curb I’m certain it’s personal. Good morning world.

Mutt Readings x Espace Maurice, Montréal

Steve Anwyll — Fri, 30 Jan 2026 23:28:50 GMT

Here I am reading for Mutt Readings at Espace Maurice on January 24, 2026. It was cold as hell that night but the place was full and the radiators were on. I was asked to think of a painting by Grace Kalyta featuring heavy, textured drapes. This is what I came up with. Below is the text.

Dep is Québecois for Corner Store

Steve Anwyll — Mon, 03 Nov 2025 23:00:20 GMT

It’s been going on a year, maybe longer, that I’ve been meaning to tell my friend in Vancouver about this guy who lives in the same building as me. But I always forget whenever we FaceTime. Life is large and there’s a lot going on.
So I figure if I write it down, post it, I’ll remember the next time we talk. I’ve been seeing the guy around the building, …

octobre 28, 2025

Steve Anwyll — Tue, 28 Oct 2025 21:51:00 GMT

Before taking the metro home I stop in the patisserie. The woman working doesn’t even need to ask. She remembers. She passes me a small black coffee and a baguette with a smile. I give a larger tip than I can afford. I hear the train leave the station. I shrug.

vendredi 28 mars

Steve Anwyll — Fri, 28 Mar 2025 19:17:46 GMT

Last day of work for the week. Thank heavens. I'm old and tired and four in a row is getting to be too much. When my ex lived here I only had to manage three. Those times were halcyon. But even as I was living them, I knew they were numbered.

Thursday November 09, 2023

Steve Anwyll — Sat, 11 Nov 2023 02:18:31 GMT

The alarm stops. I exercise, shower, smoke a cigarette so I can sit in front of the computer. There…better…I’m in the saddle again…I sigh. I’ll go to work feeling good about myself. I won’t have to carry the guilt of not doing what I love. The act itself is all the motivation I need.

Wednesday November 08, 2023

Steve Anwyll — Fri, 10 Nov 2023 02:16:02 GMT

I stand, weave, I shake my head. My ear clears a little but not much. I begin to worry. Maybe the problem is worse than neglect, perhaps millions of tiny dust mites are eating away the inside of my skull, poised to break through my face. Good luck finding love after that.

Wednesday November 08, 2023

Steve Anwyll — Thu, 09 Nov 2023 01:10:49 GMT

Smoking is all I have left. No drugs. No booze. I’ve beceome the kind of man I used to make fun of. LIke a crystal ball I saw myself in them. I knew what was coming. A life of solitude. A monk with no order. The laughter of my youth wasn’t even mine, it belonged to the future.

Tuesday November 07, 2023

Steve Anwyll — Wed, 08 Nov 2023 01:37:49 GMT

I undress in the kitchen. Long underwear peels from my skin. I sigh. I scratch my calves. Dry skin flakes off, blood beneath my nails. I look out the windows at stars in the sky. It’s early for night and the apartment is cold. I can raise the heat, but without someone here I’ll never be warm.

Monday November 06, 2023

Steve Anwyll — Tue, 07 Nov 2023 01:08:16 GMT

When the jitters push I move. Make more coffee. Smoke as it brews. I rush back up to the apartment. Got to busy the mind, or else it floats to thoughts like loneliness and death, and finding someone to help me forget them both. So I write a short story. I get what I want in the end…just kidding.

Sunday November 05, 2023

Steve Anwyll — Sun, 05 Nov 2023 22:01:11 GMT

I start the coffee. Outside the street is quiet and empty and still. The air is warm, humid, I undo my jacket. I’ll gladly miss a thousand nights for a single morning like this, before the city wakes up, before it wipes the sleep from its eyes and I’m the only one out. From here it’s all down hill. I toss my butt into the gutter.

Saturday November 04, 2023

Steve Anwyll — Sat, 04 Nov 2023 23:12:11 GMT

Ok, this is going to be easy. Make it through all the horrible hours. Get back to where I am now. My glorious bed. How many of us race through our days with nothing more in sight than that, a place where the terrors of being alive are forgtotten? I toss the blankets from my body, I remember.

Friday November 03, 2023

Steve Anwyll — Sat, 04 Nov 2023 01:07:35 GMT

Leaves and twigs litter the path. Crows caw from bare trees. The canal is calm, it looks like the sky, if not ragged around the edges. I imagine hearing its call, giving in to the coolness, all in the pursuit of knowing what it feels like to fly. Life is often spent figting urges.

Tuesday November 02 2023

Steve Anwyll — Fri, 03 Nov 2023 00:42:42 GMT

Lately, when I walk the halls early in the morning, I’ve been getting the creeps. I’m always alone. And all it takes is a single unruly crackhead to stab me, rifle through my pockets for nothing, to spit on me as I die there looking up. Grim. But I keep returning.

Monday October 30 2023

Steve Anwyll — Tue, 31 Oct 2023 23:47:01 GMT

Sitting on a curb in my work clothes I smoke a cig. Cold from the ride home but small pleasures are what I live for. This’ll be the sweetest moment today. I have vices, and my writing, though without a little company they’re pale. Speaking of which, the nearly full moon laughs above.

Rose Books Hotline

Steve Anwyll — Tue, 31 Oct 2023 11:45:04 GMT

Sunday October 29, 2023

Steve Anwyll — Sun, 29 Oct 2023 21:33:00 GMT

I rush down rue Notre-Dame, it’s still. The only other people out are the homeless, joggers, and employees rushing to open cafés and bistros. In the park dog owners breath can be seen from a distance, their beasts run about in fallen leaves orange and red as I shiver. Hands in my pockets isn’t enough. I stop for a coffee. It helps.

Saturday October 28, 2023

Steve Anwyll — Sat, 28 Oct 2023 23:46:00 GMT

Under a streetlight I smoke a cigarette. And as people pass so close I feel so far away. Nights like tonight are when I notice myself slipping. I’ve fallen over the edge of the boat and there’s nothing to grip on to, my arms flail, no one hears me scream above the sea. I smile at a woman; she looks away.