Sitting in a café waiting t̶o̶ ̶d̶(̶l̶i̶v̶e̶)̶i̶e̶. There is dogfood art on the wall and I’ve got nice coffee from a barista [Barbie] with tattoos. Pull in one [a(?)] direction already. Like a kite in a park with no kid attached. Gone, going, past. Compliments are t̶o̶o̶ ̶c̶h̶e̶a̶p̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶f̶e̶e̶l̶  valuable these days. “All the girls drink for free.”

“****. ****. FuckFuckFuck.”

*******. Drink your sweet, dark-cherry stained lips. Dead eyes masked in mascara masquerading as more. “Bought with bourbon and goes down easy.”

Commodify, objectify, consume. Transactional romance drives a BMW.

“Trust me,” it says.


Momma never let the kids in. Daddy never came home. The dog won’t stop barking. There is no help for the graceful kids at the wishing well. The grass keeps growing, but where has all the water gone?


//follow me down the rver, past the trees wthout wnd in ther sals. There are rocks there to buld a shelter together. The place where love lves.

There's a rattlin' in me
Gettin' louder now
What used t'be mel-a-dee
Don't come out of me
Just a rattlin' sound
Just a sh-sh-shakin'

There's a rattlin' in me
Gettin' louder now
Keeps on bangin', won't stop clangin'
Never lettin' me sleep

Yeah, a rattlin' in me
Can't hear nothin', babe
All the way down.
Just a rattlin' sound
A rattlin' at the cage

Bells and all assorted pings.
Melodic melancholy meticulously mesmerizing me.
A baritone bleeds out across the flickering walls, intoxication festering with(in).
"Where have you been?"
A bed of boards, a few more knots, remains oddly comfortable.
Rhythmic ripples dig into the woodwork  gripping and grafting, fibrously.
Sinking out of me, in my time.
A little more letting, a little less me.
The cracks running with what's in
b e t w e e n.