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My brother my neighbor my friend let me tell you it was dark damp and had been raining and right past the corner of the bus stop console is a child I see incorrectly as my second glance resolves into a potted plant with a threadbare stem one of those plaster drums the city puts out aspirationally I did a double take again in my mind’s eye and who wants to be that close to a child unexpectedly because I know what it’s like to be lost the last thing I want is to feel responsible especially in the damp dark in shorts and birkenstocks oof I think I inhaled a booger with some structure what do you do if one of those grafts to an airsac in your lung wait for it to dissolve wait for it to dissolve wait for it to dissolve focus is a ritual you choose to be involved how I choose re-entry from the heavens which is really existing as a thought
