The hours were longer again tonight. Sure,

they were dark, dead things, but where else

would we show our movies. Where else would

we pour one so thick and so heavy. I heard

someone yell the other day that everything

I was feeling was common, so with the guns

on the wall and hardwood drawls sliding in,

replacing the rugs by the fireplace, I decided

to watch some blond knuckle hairs curl and

brown and I tried to get rid of those thoughts.

The job got so messy though when those

thoughts had their arms and hooves and

phone numbers and thistles and seeds and so

many fucking eyes that I gave up and just

got fries instead.