involving words like "degenerative" and "chronic"
and "analogy." You have to adjust your ears in such
a situation, so as to loosen the vibrations a bit,
and allow them to trickle toward your innards. My
innards are powerful lonely and my teardrops
contain a little jewel of the past. To imagine
the decisions of childhood matter! That there
was never any house money! O, honey, I wish
I was a new culprit of dawn! I wish I could dredge
the dregs from this soupy mess. As a kid, you have
eyes which you use to imagine and as an adult
you have eyes which you use to re-imagine. The
pattern isn't perfect, but it's close enough to
remind you of home. And where is a home for
someone from the future? In your bones, idiot.
In the way they hold themselves in your body.