what heart? all of that humanity? i forfeit. i give it all up. i surrender.

i live in shambles; in a tin house, of the many that blanket this mountainside like some powerful eyesore.

"mt. goodness" where the homeless reside, ridiculed, because we cannot hide such dark habits like those median villagers of the millions; where they say cute lines like "we're made of stardust" but really we just drink away that pesky feeling of being dust.


What heart?