i set down my words with care. gently. paper boats sewer bound, guttural and grimey to the ears/soft and supple to the touch. laying them, along with the dirt dust and dreams of a thousand souls more restless, more listless, more curious than my own, perhaps another, stumbling in the oppressive waste and mumbling in the chalky twilight will find them there. at their feet swirled and eddied on a finite loop in subconscious mind tape twitter and reel to reel infinity. perchance in the jumbled script of lyrical nonsense some soul susseration lies, therein divinity cries quiet and meek tepid tears, reluctant and cooled by evening wind in their measured journey down freckled, smiling cheeks...