Then I Decided I Would Spend The

Go Out And Do Something. It Isn’t Your Room That’s A Prison, It’s Yourself.

I Felt Like A Racehorse In A World Without Racetracks.

The Abstract Kills, The Concrete Saves.

I Know The Bottom, She Says. I Know It With My Great Tap Root: It Is What You Fear. I Do Not Fear It: I Have Been There.

Backward We Traveled To Reclaim The Day Before We Fell, Like Icarus, Undone; All We Find Are Altars In Decay And Profane Words Scrawled Black Across The Sun.