Ghost Women In Another Vegas - A Poem
This is better than the last testament to her will, which has been reduced to a manuscript hidden in a rare and rusting trunk. Frothing and varnished, it waits.
Nice Things Are Getting Ruined All The Time
Changed my password to ILLFUXYRMTHR69
And walked over to no jukebox but the one behind my
Eyes touched my head full of dye, bleating
Nice things are getting ruined all the time.
...that the cruel joke is that prisons and cliffs share the same architecture: an edge you’re afraid to cross. The only way to learn which one you’re standing on is to step forward and trust gravity to reveal the truth.