count the missing tileson the bathroom floora sink that doesn’t workcareful how you flushjiggle it a little if you have tothree bronze fishon…
Fill me up with devastation,the kind that likes to sit for a while,burning and breaking away at the toes…
“I think the human race…
“So you paint?” He asks. His smirk sharply piercing the stillness of the studio.
Excerpted status quo alert diggings into messes, mentally astute but trouble with what comes out