Saturday, December 1

the seedling
gets planted
in my hand
because you
know we're
all
animals
you know the bite
bugs hard.
like being out-of-your-mind
and screaming like
you're out-of-your-mind.

sound
sound

this old onion
this old, rotting lemon
this
old
woman.

you know, the mountain
is a cave
to the otherworld?
you know talking isn't true?

behind the windsheild i sit in the passengers seat and navigate.

click here to speak to me.

cats to my fish