I think it was ‘96 or maybe ‘97. Ripping down the hill on an ATV. Salamander skin and bottle rocket shriek. The firecracker pop of teenage sheen. Tobacco barned and creek wetted. Take me to the forests of smoke bomb blue. Hands in the dirt and vivisected. Wrestle me into a knot. Two bodies of flint sparking up the dark. Double wide glances…I’m a garden tub believer. Toss me a towel and dissolve me into the ether.