my dad accidentally recites a poem


this country?          thieves.
government?          thieves.
banks?                          thieves.

                   they’re all thieves.

just thieves.

these stupid politicans? all thieves.

men? thieves.

                             nothing but thieves.



Ars Poetica, age 4

...my four-year-old hand caressed that plastic world & beheld its cerulean tilt & spin


D&C

they look like tiny, ripped-out human hearts.