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An empty bit of good.
Let the machine work and drain and sputter and purge, may we dance and clap at what meagre pleasures it can conjure.
Make it easy, only just for a little while
I used to be on Google street view.
All my lies are always wishes
I needed a pen. I’ve also been deep in a tiger pit of depression lately, and it seemed like a good idea to pit these two things against each other. Draw a cure from the blood of necessity.
These hands, that have known metal
It’s been years since they have touched my hands, but still I remember how it felt to hold them. The sensation, of dirt sliding along the palm as metal bars are moved and shifted in space, is pleasant in its own gritty kind of way. How the metal always