"The Business Int'l is a trans-national,
Multi-operative, corporate entity.
With the means to function outside
Normal Gov't bounds
The Business Int'l has become the worldwide leader
On the frontline of:
Genetic & Bio-Engineering!
Space Exploration
And long-range teleportation services!

Our research will better* [human-kind]
And is the most advanced & comprehensive
Ever imagined.

The Business Int'l values it's loyal customers!
And at the Business Int'l
We take all of your corcerns seriously.

We also offer aid to every worker at any/all of our subsidiaries
Any 4th class employee who feels compelled to:
[Leave the Facility]
Or
[Propagate sensitive data]
*STOP.
Remain calm. And fasten yourself to nearby set furniture
Until our Registered Physcian can
Follow up with you.
Self-Quarentine is a Business Int'l core policy!

In extreme cases though,
The Business Int'l reminds you to
Be prepared to utilize
Your personalized botulinum capsule
Provided to you during your initiation!

Thank you!

Remmel's
pocket smelled
like armpit,
and his switchblade
felt good
and heavy
near his thigh.

The air was humid with
passing rain
and asphalt
and he pulled out a Marlboro
and stuck it
to chapped lips.

A flood of water
hammered the gutters.

And the grass he stood on
was an island.

A flash of light rolled around the corner.
Two glimmering beacons
riding up on him.

Rolling slow.

The windows were all blacked out
and sheened in a perfect
reflection of orangeish streetlights.

Remmel put his hands in his jeans,
his white boxers
pin-striped in orange
bars.

He'd come out the house without a shirt, and
his black *******
got hard as lead in the new wind.

He licked his lips.
As the car rolled up,
a murmur of bass
making the windows buzz.

He put his hands on the hood
feeling the buzz go through him
warm and tickling
as he leaned into the car.

He checked up and down the street,
and finally squared on his reflection
in the black glass
seeing nothing but
the shaking
green God of himself
about to create.

On a train
Where no one cares where I go
On a platform
You somehow reach me against the odds
We quarrel, we fight, until exhaustion
And the moment of my freedom
Just happens to be your moment of self
Moment of salt
And I bleed tears
Knowing the timing
It’s always the right time for tragedy
My tragedy
Your weekly release
Of salt
Takes a lot, I know
But it’s not enough
It’s not
What’s under the belt
It’s what’s under the skin
That you can’t ever
Understand
Understand
What’s another word for
Understand

Each one
Creates a wave
Larger than the last
Butterflys deeper and teasing
Control composure lost, tossed aside
Intense wanting bullied by that separation.

Tomorrow she will
Strike accurate and brutal
It's the game, her rules.

Overwhelming pride
Radiates ecstatically
Towards those relieved.