Author Archives: Peter

Open City declared Peter Nolan Smith an underground punk legend of the 1970s East Village. The New England native spent many years as a nightclub doorman in New York, Paris, London, and Hamburg. The constant traveler has lived for long periods of time in Europe and the Far East. After a forced retirement from the Schmatta trade in Thailand, Peter Nolan Smith returned to New York to work in the international diamond trade. At summer’s end he resumed the life of a writer. The world’s leading leisureologist is currently based in Sri Racha, Thailand, Fort Greene, Brooklyn, and Luxembourg City. He has no address.

HEAVY METAL ACCORDION by Peter Nolan Smith

Every boy has a best friend in his youth. In 1959 I was lucky enough to have two; my older brother Frunk and a neighbor. Chaney and I attended the same kindergarten class at Pinewood Elementary in Falmouth Maine and we did almost everything together boys were supposed to do that far north. In the […]

THE WONDER WHEEL by Peter Nolan Smith

It was a good day to visit Coney Island. Memorial Day was America’s introduction to summer. It had been a long winter in New York. Ellen was with her friends. The Argentines wanted to see the sea, But there was no way to refuse the rides. None of them went in the water. It was […]

ES TUT MIR LIED by Peter Nolan Smith

My high school German professor smoked cigarettes in the classroom. Ashes from his dying butts dropped onto his black cassock, as we read Kafta’s DAS URTEIL from a blue book. “Du sprechet wie Arschloch.” Bruder Karl’s cigarette ravaged voice grated the cinderblock wall. “Jawohl, Bruder.” Boston accents have no R and our class defiled the […]

TIME HAS COME TODAY by the Chambers Brothers

In the late-60s I attended a Catholic Boys high school ten miles away from my house. No buses or trains ran between the suburbs on the outskirts of Boston and only connection between these bedroom communities was Route 128 orbiting Boston from Nantasket Beach in the South Shore to the North Shore fishing port of […]

MISSILE AWAY by Peter Nolan Smith

During grammar school my older brother was the top of his class at Our Lady of the Hills, but he was also a pyromaniac and on several occasions Frunk came close to burning down our suburban house underneath the Blue Hills. Each time my mother punished us both with a wooden spoon and my father […]