Arthur Graham’s Reviews > HSTQ: Summer 2026 > Status Update
Arthur Graham
is on page 10 of 28
This city spills champion bartenders out from
the Lower Ninth to Pigeontown,
Gentilly, Algiers to Mid-city,
the Lower Garden District to Central City,
Seventh Ward, Treme’, Bywater
to the Irish Channel
and every corner in between.
— Sep 21, 2026 12:22PM
the Lower Ninth to Pigeontown,
Gentilly, Algiers to Mid-city,
the Lower Garden District to Central City,
Seventh Ward, Treme’, Bywater
to the Irish Channel
and every corner in between.
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Arthur’s Previous Updates
Arthur Graham
is on page 24 of 28
We hadn't been fucking
for very long that summer
before she asked if I could
help her out with something.
— Sep 21, 2026 12:30PM
for very long that summer
before she asked if I could
help her out with something.
Arthur Graham
is on page 22 of 28
“Do you realize what you
did? Do you remember?
Do you even care?”
— Sep 21, 2026 12:26PM
did? Do you remember?
Do you even care?”
Arthur Graham
is on page 16 of 28
After the first cut
I looked
at myself
in the mirror.
I looked
pretty much
the same—
minus
a bit of lip
and some nose.
I’d been
so scared
but now
something had changed.
I saw myself
for what I truly was:
ugly,
imperfect flesh,
stretched
over bone—
hiding
behind the illusion
of a soul.
— Sep 21, 2026 12:25PM
I looked
at myself
in the mirror.
I looked
pretty much
the same—
minus
a bit of lip
and some nose.
I’d been
so scared
but now
something had changed.
I saw myself
for what I truly was:
ugly,
imperfect flesh,
stretched
over bone—
hiding
behind the illusion
of a soul.
Arthur Graham
is on page 4 of 28
No one wants to read this sad sack poem
pouring out of me after two glasses
of white wine,
so I imagine myself a melancholy
charmingly self-effacing
country singer
with an old song about how
I wish I hadn’t done you wrong,
and how I miss you
like I’d miss the sun
— Sep 21, 2026 12:18PM
pouring out of me after two glasses
of white wine,
so I imagine myself a melancholy
charmingly self-effacing
country singer
with an old song about how
I wish I hadn’t done you wrong,
and how I miss you
like I’d miss the sun
I truly do,
but Jaime regains the title
each inebriated visit
because even after all this time,
the birthdays, break-ups, blackouts,
strong shots, cold beers and heavy pours
I still never have to wait
for a drink—
even on Mardi Gras day
and that goes
a helluva long way
in these parts.