everything and nothing has failed. no need to wait for tomorrow, cuz everything is blowing up today. the grass beneath my feet is a synthesized version of the work of a
stones. neon skies open up three saturdays a month. the air in uptown swells. the windowpanes can go to hell slow summer walking through a bad neighborhood
of beer on the floor. one hundred bottles of beer. less than twenty days from drowning in the last five years. a ring sucked from a finger. a desert