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We’re that ever present dirt in the bed of your nails.
We get sick and out of desperation as we swallow disease on demand. We come back for more.
No, you don’t need to shave, bathe, or
eat the rotted fruit that is offered to you, just
20 miles west from here in a tavern where they secretly take tiny pleasures in tying your shoelaces to the barstool.
Ray Strickland 9/2022
Precision
I have no idea if there's only one place like that in the world, but I am quite confident that there is only one case in which such a gritty stop has been so poetically described. It's hard to believe your dart didn't hit dead center in capturing the mood.
Thank you.
Thank you.