Saturday, June 30, 2012
that's way less than twelve thousand
later at night, the contents of your cashmere drawer emptied, in switzerland, hanging precariously between steel poles, inside of a gondola, there are some things you don't want to have to ask. whose burnt out flashlight is this? oh, it's not mine, then who else is...wait, does anyone even? are we going to start moving again? yes, that is starting to feel more like...is that bread? does anyone have bread? are you telling me there is no bread in...why? for all the time you've been standing there with your back to the window whistling and looking at pictures of...no you are not helping, and i shouldn't have to ask this but...why? for real, why why why is there so much raspberry jam?