this IS going to be about the book but first, just to test out the site, a peon I wanna go home and crawl unseen and inordinately broken. I wanna go home and sing cancer venom uncovered self. I die a thousand victims in every toss and turn in the sheets we meet repeatedly. I cannot give up on frozen melting or trying to tie one wounded fragility to the other. Connection runs in a family of trees broken in two by the whims of nature. I tried on many different sizes, piles of skin shredded from within a charcoal core. I stood by and waved the passersby ignored me. Simple pieces of clothing stuck to blood and bleeding wounds of love or feeling something like an incandescent seething of regular movements smoking and adhering to a simple sacrificial bit of television found blaring in the background, not alone and wired but filled with euphemistic fire. from witnesses.