Lars lifts opens the toilet seat. The hinge squawks and he mimics the sound with his mouth. A dumb smile folds out on his face like someone unrolling a beach towel. He sits without dropping his pants or underwear. The cops are just about to leave through the screen door. Maggie offers a departing sacrament of right out of the oven of crispy flakey Pillsbury biscuits. They wave their hands parallel to the ground refusing. Maggie pulled the biscuits out too early. The bottoms are tan and dimensional but the tops are sloppy. They look like they have a glaze but they don’t have a glaze. They are pasty but still hot to the touch. The pan is hot. Maggie is wearing maroon oven mitts. One of the cops gets his foot snagged on the throw rug. They walk with their heads down but don’t notice the curled edges of the throw rug. They notice a black pug named Roger instead and nearly avoid fumbling over him. The cops scatter outside quickly like ducklings crossing the street. Lars’ dumb smile lingers and he laughs with a shushing lisp. He reaches between his legs into the toilet bowl. His hand disturbs the water. His nose is bleeding. Maggie closes the doorwall after the cops leave. The cops left the screen open. Maggie reopens the doorwall, closes the screen, shakes her head, and then closes the doorwall again. The kitchen is humming with improper wires. The light is electric pastel blue. The linoleum is too ***** to sleep on. Maggie’s ******* can be seen through her shirt. Lars wipes his nose with his arm and shoulder. He is hunched digging into the toilet bowl. He pulls out a baggie with a twist tie on top. The baggie looks reused. Maggie enters under the frame of the door and her lips roll out like a beach towel. The ******* in the baggie is very very dry.

K.p’s dad was a Science Fiction author,
While his son and I learned at school.
The teacher talked about planes, bombs, and towers-
Explosions, debris, and jet fuel.

We were poised like guppies, fidgeting with our lips,
Our bodies seemed made of lewd rubber.
Not one of us understood the weight or gravity-
Of one person killing another.

K.p’s dad wrote about a fair United States,
Called: “The Defined Territories,” rather tenacious.
A satire exploring justice with exaggerated sameness-
That most readers found to be tasteless.

His main character was a ‘rookie cop,’
And every skin color was uniform and equal.
Homosexuals gladly aided population control (by not making babies)-
And bullets were designed to be non-lethal.

In the story: a group of smugglers find a stockpile of real guns,
Automatics, ammunition and bombs.
The valiant cop pursues them through page turns and plot-
With sweat budding on his palms.

K.p and I fought over a girl at school,
I broke his nose and we each served detention.
At the end of his dad’s story the smugglers are caught-
Fined $1,000 and given lethal injection.

Larry, the man who terraformed Mars, has a scar over his left eye.
Maggie, his younger sister, could not make up her mind.
Her brother was a Star Man. She was left behind.
Maggie swam in the ocean
Larry paid a fine.

Maggie liked tequila
Larry was back on Earth.
He liked snorting space rocks
By the basement furnace hearth.

Larry got a parking ticket
Maggie passed out in the sand
She did not feel a single thing
When she was ****** there by a man.

The baby was coming in April and
Maggie went to the clinic
Larry thought about Venereal tides
While he was out having a picnic.

Larry, the man who terraformed Mars, has a scar over his left eye.
Maggie, his younger sister, could not make up her mind.
Her brother was a Star Man. She was left behind.
Maggie swam in the ocean
Larry paid a fine.

Maggie is now a single mother
In the house with a furnace hearth.

Larry never came back down
The last time he left Earth.

We've taken you from your home. Lush in line, your twins and elders, taken.
You lost connection to the Nexus, put on display with porous candied paper messengers and the consumers of blood, perched from the ceiling by invisible lineage.
We have taken you. We're sorry. We lament. We trade small goods to take you, but its easy.
We take the tools too. The serration, the sadism, newspaper mat lobotomy.
We lament. We are sorry.
We lament and cut sad faces. We cut the undead that spawn from the soil and ****** your innards into the hot room. We are sorry. We too spawn from soil. You feel you've lost connection to the Nexus- with the stringy appendages of chilled gore.
We've taken your insides and given you a new face.
We are sorry.

(The page is torn on the left alignment)

...And then they would place their pistols beneath their chins and pull the trigger. I would see it as some cylindrical spatter of blood escaping from the tops of their heads, like over exaggerated gore from the adult movies. So what would happen next for them exactly? Blackness? No. That is still something. Perhaps just empty. No. Can't be. Empty has potential to be filled, rendering it not quite nothing. I suppose it would be like before you were born. Do you remember it?

There is red in the forefront of my family crest, I was told
that meant outsiders were not taken lightly. We would pour tar
over castle walls and then many years later down our lungs.
One technique would take longer to die.

Riding a steam engine with a harmonica attached at my chest to make tips
I double-tasked with a guitar while tar burned
on the vestibule. Keeping those who didn’t like the smell out.
The engine burned killing pixie-dust flecks and turning them into cinders.
To Duluth and back
each mouth mimicked.

We used to abide by segregating those who enjoyed torture
and those who didn’t.

There is more free space than matter
My zenith is far from touching land
A wing tipped by the ring of Saturn
The orb that many thought unmanned

My zenith is far from touching land
With a silken era of neon speed
The orb that many thought unmanned
The Guardians acknowledged their time of need

With a silken era of neon speed
A gaseous clash of friend and foe
The Guardians acknowledged their time of need
And songs of victory may never know

Baggie, tin foil, pizza box that entered much too soon before I had the chance to read the baking instructions.
Tissues, red bull cans, graded busy work that earned it's keep after a professor marked it with a big red "X."
Mummified tea bags drained of every last living drop, miniature candy bar  wrappers, a dumb drawing of a cow dressed as Spider-man.
Guitar strings, chewed gum, a news article about the house I burned down.
Love notes, crumpled paper cups, and a used band-aid.

Hell holds a place 

Where I pace in a space 

And through glass, I look at you. 



Not out of vengeful fury 

But for sorrow and worry 

As I remain in a dismal blue. 



You are not alone 

And prone to the light he has shone 

With your mate, both head and soul. 



I tear at my skull

Hysterically mull, presence null 

Misery flushed by eternity’s toll. 



Obligatory affection 

For the reflection of woman perfection 

He has, but I too want you excessively.  



The glass will not break

He kisses you for my sake 

I famine helplessly to get more than your stare. 



You look back throughout his touch  

Every time it’s exceedingly much 

I fall apart watching you go.

Now in a pinch 

I winced just an inch 

Convulsing from a dream in the 

Windowpain. 



No blanket could 

Banquet and save it, sadly 

I pinky’d my way between lanes. 



Petite fingers clasped 

Wrapped and entrapped in 

Sobbing troubled twines. 



My abdomen, held

Felt body bouquet and meld 

Love in the most inquisitive of times.

Hell made me consistent

Persistent, I went with it

And caught the eye of the girl behind glass. 



Up, she got close 

Molecular woes, a lethal dose

With one touch my window collapsed. 



No one would think

Gut sink, simultaneous blink 

The possibility unconstitutionally in reach. 



Things she would say 

Meaning to days and astonishing phrase 

I would make happy all I needed most. 



Had I searched every-earth

Proving worth, providing mirth 

I would have found the same you, as inevitably. 



Now Hell has subsided 

And we reside in what’s been guided 

She is the me I like most.

The bit crusher and asteroid farmer- married at the age of twenty four.
It's a bit tougher as her dad would alarm her-
To be carried in a cockpit evermore.
So decade to decade and a millennium of light speed brought them to a sound of space and time.
An offspring they would bare on winter by a hair of a planet that was
covered in lye.

When I came up from my sister’s basement, I might have been a ghost. Expired and void, curious and confused. Her baby’s, my niece’s toys, were rivaled on the floor, but nobody was around. The sliding glass door was open, screen still at attention interceding bugs from our living quarters, but everything was unlocked. It looked as though people had been there just seconds before and suddenly dispersed leaving it in ruin. Maybe I had died in my sleep, and can no longer see people, just the things they manipulate. Could people see me?  In this strange quiet stillness?
I always think the worst when I can’t find people. Like they’re being held at gunpoint by some ski-masked kidnapper. Or that I’ll find them drowned in the bathtub after I am forced to break the door down following a few seconds of no response. Would this be reality today? I decided to wait around before abandoning the scene and going home. Swooning the mesh of the screen door aside, I squinted my eyes severely from the extraneous glint of the sun after I had been asleep for elven hours. My untidy bedhead flanged out behind me like a peacock’s feathers. I noticed this while rubbing my eyes, catching my reflection in the glass part of the door. The deck my sister’s husband built was a sunlit Mayan orange; you could smell how the wood had dried after the thunderstorm preceding my sleep in their basement. Still, not a peep of human interaction.
I trudged back down the stairs in the desolation of the lonesome and languid house. The pit of my stomach enjoyed the idea of being a ghost, feeling like I had just gone over the edge of the first obligatory drop of a rollercoaster. Wanting to gather my things, I turned the handle to the spare bedroom in which I spent last night. My body was still in bed, comatose in what I could only imagine as being Death.

“Why can’t I see you every night?”
When I’m still afraid of dying, you should know better
-The show feather with a 1920’s twist.
A flapper, with someone who slaps her
But only her closest friends know.
In unapplauded tones they tell her to split
While she’s ahead
What’s in her head is:
1. Chewing gum
2. Her finger and thumb
Calling for a cab.

Hell made me consistent
Persistent, I went with it
And caught the eye of the girl behind glass

Up, she got close
Molecular woes, a lethal dose
With one touch my window collapsed

No one would think
Gut sink, simultaneous blink
The possibility unconstitutionally in reach

Things she would say
Meaning to days and astonishing phrase
I would make happy all I needed most

Had I searched every-earth
Proving worth, providing mirth
I would have found the same you, as inevitably

Now Hell has subsided
And we reside in what’s been guided
She is the me I like most

In a pinch
I winced just an inch
Convulsing from the crack in the
Windowpain

No blanket could
Banquet and save it, sadly
I pinky’d my way between lanes

Petite fingers clasped
Wrapped and entrapped in
Sobbing troubled twines

My abdomen, held
Felt body bouquet and meld
Love in the most inquisitive of times

Hell holds a place
Where I pace in a space
And through glass, I look at you

Not out of vengeful fury
But for sorrow and worry
As I remain in a dismal blue

You are not alone
And prone to the light he has shone
With your mate, both head and soul

I tear at my skull
Hysterically mull, presence null
Misery flushed by eternity’s toll

Obligatory affection
For the reflection of woman perfection
He has, but I too want you excessively  

The glass will not break
He kisses you for my sake
I famine helplessly to get more than your stare

You look back throughout his touch  
Every time it’s exceedingly much
I die watching you go

I scrutinized the miserable wretch harnessed to the table
Polished my knuckle with his murk, malice, and fable

                             Placing a centipede on his stomach as it shuffled to his eye
Languidly impending horror as he begged me to die

                                I put pressure on his abdominal with the ball of my hand
Took a breath to my diluted lungs as the boy’s jawline ran

                          Tantalizing screams of dread, poor boy fastened on steel bed  
I protruded my hand deep and to his intestines, it fed

                                          My malignant clasp ripped and mangled as it went
Like the centipede too, itched and mangled as it went

                                 And as his entrails to, like sizeable centipedes they went
In a ****** stream of fluids crawling and sprawling as they went

I bound up with glee as my poor wretch lay be, and I swung him head-toe to a pit
Where billions of legs crawl, but human ones not at all, a realm where arthropods permit

Willie Johnson stand out in the field
Nobody treat him wit respect since mother is dead
He look up at the cave
Still a boy in man’s rags
Father and elders tell em the devil lives there
Ain’t nobody supposed to go in

They’ll tell you that y’know
That the devil lives there so you don’t go in
Could be boy Willie’s a cave or ya own heart
They don’t want you to go in
They don’t want you searchin’

-What happened when he went in Pa?

I saw the inside of a cave

Every now and again, I think about where my dad might be, and what he might be doing at the very moment in which I think of him. “No dignity, no duty,” I remember my Grandfather saying. We, meaning my mom and I, think that his current dwelling is south, somewhere in Arizona. Maybe alone, maybe with a recent girlfriend who hasn’t realized how two-faced he is yet. It went something like this: when I was the little old age of three, he decided to leave me, my mom, and my sister. He said we were an expense not worth retaining. Having us around couldn’t pay back the debt he owed from his failing business proposition, the invention of a hybrid eating utensil that combined a fork, spoon, and knife together to increase the amount of table room at restaurants and finer consumption establishments for large parities of impatient patrons. His “would-be” investors claimed they already had the “spork” and that hybrid eating utensils were a thing of the past. He cursed the world, anointing the words “*******, I'll make it... I'll make it big somewhere else," and simply was gone ever since.

“Your father is a very bad man,” My mother explained to my watering eye. “I hereby excommunicate him from this family. We are going to love each other in this house.”

“What’s ex-chum-oon-eh-cating mean?” I asked diligently, wiping a tear.

“It’s what the Christian Church does to people who have been naughty. You’ll learn all about those religious doctrines in school, when you’re older. We’ll talk about it then little Bugaboo.”

And I was off to bed.

Each smokestack tranced across the side of the rust colored Hall
As an ancient Chinese paper dragon
Bobbing and
           Weaving
With feather pentatonic tea leaves
      White and green
       Silk and screen
Opaque paper culture

Smoke from my pipe
Cracked like a leather bullwhip
Broadcast from my upper lip
Southern man will be my mantle
And close quarter’s cotton, a stand still

My black skin helps reject the sun

Smoke from my cigar
Was liberated like a quiet /-pluck-\of a plant
That I choose when to release
Sothern man will soon dismantle
And still I stand in the master’s handle

I walk and watch the plane ascend,
Expecting an explosion, a means to an end.  
From earth, I’d feel the heat on the left side of my face.
A mustard coating, as the souls climb towards grace,
Is it wrong to witness a terrible thing?
To find weeping metal in a fiery ring?
Where humans once manned,
Mankind’s fleshy hand.

I continued my walk keeping track of the sky,
The plane never crashed, but still the souls climbed.

Bone mice and malice
Splint sores and callused
Morrow moths in chalice  
O dear friend Miss Alice

In a cave my shadow is broadcast on wall
A recollection of forms and participation for all
Smoke rings and incense for an instance of alone
“A hermit” I said aloud, in the place I call home

Have you ever had The Collection?
First you need a black jacket
And a musket ball and rapier.

You need the devil to watch you on t.v
His goat hoofs crossed as popcorn ejects from his mouth like packing peanuts.

You need a woman
Infuriated flesh from brow to cheekbone  
To which, at one point, love you have shown.

You need to move
And move


                  And move

I would sacrifice all the light in this room to the devil
Whatever the weekend is drinking I’ll surely be at it’s temple
My rent doctor soothes me when she aches my pains
And patches up the walls from when I hate the game
I
Cut the shame and I sit on my rock as
I
Stalk the kids with their neighborhood chalk and
I
Mark the places where the bullet casings and shrapnel
Were caught lodged in the arteries of the deputy court marshal

Don’t discourage the obscenity of senators on their wedding day
If you follow me I’ll speak of thee in the highest at my eulogy
I don’t consider in the nearest the “hop-ability” of daddy dearest
Oh and by the way, there’s a tip jar on your way out.

Ripely at 13, quickly an Internet queen
Found a boy around the same age
To swap and talk of things

Mindless banter from pitcher to batter
Such fun to see the words received
Upon the silliness, love was an illness
And the two were a couple on screen

But he became rash and rude and demanding
Forcefully aggressive and to my understanding
Required some photos of her undressed
As to which a little frightened she replied
“I guess”

For a year and a half, enslaved by a monster
No words of love just innocence slaughtered
The last picture she sent was of red bloodied arms
Without clothes on her body
Death from self inflicted harm

The Sun struggled through the foliage
As we got closer to the leafy edge_

My tongue rebelled against my mouth
Describing it as far fetched

The fruit tasted of mostly water
Heaven forbid from Father to daughter

Said “Knowledge was wet as a serpents tail”
Tale of two kinds who tindered a trail

“My test was freewill when all things are good”
Earth and Heaven divided divinely, so should

“I propel you away for love and for pain”
“Never before and never
again”

We bowed across the street
Heel toe, toe and feet
Hooded like a monk walking a sacrificial lamb
Footed across the gravel with the scent of a nervous man
I parked my pledge
And arrived at the nightly apartment

I opened the leaflet
By what means did we get
To shore in a matter of months.
Oh heat from exhaustion
And meat from the lost bin
I’m captain on all equal fronts.

So sure of the story
By some things that lure me
I know by a flagon of beer.

So false are the reasons
But yet we’re still seasoned
To occasionally stumble upon here.

             Real Estate at the
Top of the lake is well aware of
Equilibrium
     Tell my Dad and my
Brother too and you might as well
Tell the rest of them

Capture and conquest and capital clues
All by nature as conceptually true
Canceling cannons and appraising for food
Can’t consistently measure the facts from some fools

I am still hesitating
I tend to stare when I’m waiting
Rejoice and sing for the lost boys
Take it easy you all made the right choice
Get closer to the machine now
Expedite and rush through the dream now
Explode, claim the treasure
You thought the past would get better
No more come and go meetings
Same sad story and same old greeting
Bless the sound and just continue bleeding
Open house the faces are fleeting  
I know, things were bitter
Art of the craft without any glitter
Control forgot to be an option
Close the gap and put it up for adoption
I can’t have the only thing that wants me
Does that mean that I cant be happy

Happy, I am saved

I get creative when the snow falls
Manifest desire for the rag dolls
The seriousness of tomorrow
I just shrug it off as time borrowed
It’s not much but I’m liking where I learned to stand
On this bright northern piece of land, and
All the while it’s trial by creatures
Two kids underneath the bleachers
I can’t speak, I’m afraid to lose my voice
I just wish I could learn make a noise
Every time I’m so straight to the point
But my life is to new to exploit, and furthermore
We both know that it’s time for bed
But there are too many thoughts running through my head  
Like I’m happy that you and I both shall live
God knows it’s all we could give
Yeah the future is cool and the past is dead
But you wish it were me instead

Happy, I am saved

Have we been introduced
I’m the ******* kid
We met on the screens
Do you remember the screens?
Do you remember me?
I’m beneath the skin of the lid
I’m the one who never screams
Do you remember the screams?
Do you remember me?
I’m the losing bid
I’m gnawing at the seams  
Do you remember the seams?
Do you remember me?
Seems to me

Are you needed at all?
Dung beetle needn’t stall
Make haste to your quarters
Not needed at all.
Are you producing at all?
Your sister needn’t call
Your choice of words is merely
Cause for her to fall.
Are you human after all?
The family’s income needn’t stall
Make haste to your death dear
Not needed at all.

Now that I’ve seen the phases
Seen the faces
Of the sun
Now that I am lifeless
I fight this
Heaven I don’t know
Now I know I don’t know better
So go get her
Like I should
Now I’ll go and reach our savior
Behavior
And some nicotine

What we learn we must remember
Dismember what
We loosely hold to hate
As a kid I held up ceilings
While believing  
Success was worth my fate
Now I know my head was cycling
It’s frightening
Paranoid in present day
Now I know just what my life was
It was the right one
And all I did was live

And so it seems I sleep with the enemy 
We walk in propetual summers glow
And so it seems I'm somewhat ahead of me
The world has still yet to know 
Of calm the sea and Hades wreath 
Wild followers of goat skinned sweets 
Claim the bow to complex and scowl 
To side with such Trojans or companion Greeks?

The empty calories are all full of rage as
My double-edged pen cut dinosaur days with
Little bow peep and that chick from down the street
Both swallowed the fluid keeping the cosmic egg clean

Somehow I have ended up-
On the island of the snow

When the light hits we-
Will watch the bodied waters grow

Some have come to sing the aid of cosmic egg you surely must have known
Busy, empty, queen bee gave us nectar harvest words a choice to go

Lady in red
My disposition was read  
My expedition for change
My pockets are full of change

My pockets are full of change
My pockets are soulful of change

Weren’t you a member?
A child to the sun
All the frightening of lions and thundering shamelessly
Tell me how often did you play the games, are you too old
Look to them now
They’re formed from nostalgia and built by the mean ones
Consecutive airwaves cut common foot gluttons; they’ll eat you alive
Run from them now
I’d ask for a teacup but your mind is racing me
Back to the start where our backs began facing what fools know
Clap for them now
Yes they were sleeping I realize misfortune
Stop subtle reaping we need them back onto our side!

Electric water I bite you
  Off again
Sheet rock solder I am your
  Only friend
We meet up weekly
We tell each other lies
I fed the sheep and
We gave our parting tides

Oh yes we get lost
Oh yes we are gone

My, avocado I know you want
  To lead
My, dear Mason to us you
  Are freed
My two faced flower what happened to
  Your lips
Eight is the hour to which the
  Ceiling drips

Oh yes we get lost
Oh yes we are gone

Loose gravel come and it
Ride up your shirt and it
It can’t contend but it
It knows its worth and it
It can pretend and it
It can befriend but it
It knows its worth and it
It’s place on Earth and it
It’s velvet song
It won’t be long
Loose gravel come and it
It won’t belong

Once this girl, she had me
But then I called her bluff
I found she was double dealing
And lord declared enough
The balance did catch up now
Her man perused a thrill
She came to me for comfort
And you know she’s searching still

-Oh my lord
She’ll never find no comfort here
This little girl will have to linger
My pity train will steer clear

She cried to me in the morning
She begged me all through the day
She was on her knees by nightfall
Lord I’d have it no other way

-Aw yes
She’ll never find no comfort here
This little girl will have to linger
My pity train will steer clear

So then I sat her near me
I took her by the waist
I told her so very sweetly
That this was all a piece of fate

-Oh my lord
She’ll never find no comfort here
This little girl will have to linger
My pity train will steer clear

My 5 o’clock shadow shielded my 4 o’clock guilt
The shady gentleman in the corner is a no one
The man to his left, a soapbox of stilts
Still, a matchbook
Strikingly same
A celestial speaker
A back of green to maim

Who did you come to see?
Was it me or a theater on screen?
If I faced my back
Would you feel the entertainment lack?
Or would you laugh and listen closer to the seam?
Company
Am I any clearer?
Empathy
Why do we tend to fear her?
If I could place a finger on the crown when it’s getting nearer
I’m sure the kids would cheer
I’m sure they’d wish they’d be here
Are you satisfied with the band?
Have you come any closer to the man?
If I traced my will
Would you give it time to fill?
Or would you ask to see the palm of my hand?
Company
Am I any clearer?
Apathy
Why do we tend to fear her?
If I could place a finger on the crown when it’s getting nearer
I’m sure the kids would cheer
I’m sure they’d wish they’d be here

The room was clean from the middle of the street
The lady we spoke to seemed fairly sweet
According to myth the set was nearly complete
I don’t know why we had to go

I could smell the way you looked through me
We could dip or we could flea
There was a cap on how high we could succeed
They played a game inside my head

You removed your smile and I removed my shirt
The lake that I washed in was mostly dirt
But you still couldn’t tell I heard
All the secrets you told to the fish

Everyone sang but nobody was in tune
I sang to but I started too soon
You were upset that the quarter came to ruin
I was unsure for I didn’t pay an ear

The pillow won’t bite even if you try to fight it
The children all say that I can’t even hide it
Under the bed I sure see what’s above it
The children all say that I can’t even love it

Don’t stay up for me
I don’t know if I left yet

Up in my head I sure know where the key is
The children all say that now I look fearless
Over the rafter is just where my dream is
There is a stich in the fabric that I swore was seamless

Don’t stay up for me
I don’t know where I left it

Butter in the dime
Time starts to stutter
Crash the car in the lake
And throw the keys in the gutter
Wait for the mud to dry before you try to wash it
Clean the records off the witness without protection from the faucet

South of the border
Meet a man named Cruz
He’ll know a place to stay
And he’ll tell you just what to do
Live a life of luxury and reap the harvest you have sown  
Until death do you part you’ll be the one who’s never known

When you go and test the sharks
You will get your question marks
Cut off at the very hook
And make
Them
Yell

In an aquifer I’m passed through heterogeneous soil
Life above ground was managed but with little time to toil
I sink completely calm, I stand smug in an upright position
Instead of becoming cleansed I relay the earths quiet composition
Now the further down the better
Oh the more organic I embark
Noticing not the slightest tension
People look rather well in the dark

Check your perspective and be a
Prospect of the product
Produce a lot of life
And place the puzzle out of havoc
Luck was my lady
Dependence was her cue
If my serpent had ascended
She’d show her red white and blue

The bags beneath my eyes have been efficiently packed
And are stored in a pressurized cabin
“The weather is fair”
Said the captain of the craft
“We’ll be leaving according to schedule”
2:30 AM and my mind will take off
a dependence I consider immeasurable

My coffee’s getting cold so I
Top it off
The steam ran away and it
Might get lost
The humans sit and stare while at
The crosswalk
I pass and stand awake and wait and
Hear them talk-
-ing about the meat that grows in
Livestock
I guess I thought that caffeine was a weakness