Arid sepia landscape. All the air sucked out of a deflated balloon left to melt in an unair-conditioned back room in a business that’s closed for the summer. What’s left is fair game to the elements once it gets cleared out. A brick face building on all four sides with no way to breathe or get air. Above water submarine baking in the heat. Thirst is essential, quintessential even. A backbeat torture chamber where you can hear the trickles of sweat pouring down, even in the deadest of silences. It’s the ricocheting reverberations of your own body with the sole intent to rattle your mind. A padded space, printed in greyscale. Delirium in 0 to 60. Adequate resources for a mind gone dull. Especially when in certain seasons it becomes too cold to think or crawl, but just stand and shake and wait for the bus to come. Laissez-faire tactics long forgotten. Simply squeezed orange juice waits unpulped in a glass because we have forgotten how to fend for ourselves. Could we even build the cardboard container than holds this liquid morning gold (to some)? This sugar cane god we now bow down to, in spite of all the things good Catholics know yet choose to purposefully ignore. This isn’t garbage, this is crisis. Blinding reaching for anything resembling eloquence in body or speech.


Leonardo da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man, as if that holds some ages-long answer to the age-old question: What does it mean to be human? No Windows XP background could possibly explain in digitized 1s and 0s formulaic outreach, to even touch the definition of what it means, because despite A.I. and all its glories and faults, it will never quite get…there. And as laughable as it is that some pizzerias take on the namesake of the globe’s most famous Renaissance man, like in addition to inventing, drawing, and painting art here is a man fixing his meals in a brick oven, expert-like, with tomato, basil, and mozzarella cheese. I guess who’s to say though? I haven’t read up on the subject and do not know the timeline in which pizza graced the globe in its first form. Stable mindsets never grant geniuses their ideal work environment; I wonder why everything needs to be chaos sometimes. Something to push against, maybe. Something to entertain as well as enthrall. Mistakes are just opportunities to learn. Leaning back on a radiator for long enough will eventually show you it’s hot. Stand back! Here comes knowledge in a 4:3 frame, a book encircles the globe like a sped up satellite in orbit. It is cartoonish, large, and embarrassing. It opens its pages to the screen, to the camera, breaking the fourth wall.


You reap what you sow – Seeds hit the fertile earth in large fistfuls, tumbling from great heights as they make little depressions in the dirt. These little spaces are their beds. They will sleep well tonight and become wind-blown and damp by morning. Crops are a staple of any agricultural economy. Humans need food. Humans need to eat. Humans need fresh food, fruits and vegetables. Tall stalks of corn on the cob that one can become lost in; A maze on a cool fall afternoon, the entrance and exits marked with haybales. Music reverberates across a dark field. Jack-0-lanterns are carved into horrifying expressions, candle-lit from the inside. The hardened wax of a candle freezes into all sorts of strange shapes. I like to peel it in ribbons, the hard wax smooth and curled. Black and orange plaid shirt hangs on a scarecrow’s body. His eyes, nose, and mouth are roughly sewn patches. He is cartoonish, yet effective. I guess crows don’t watch a lot of Nickelodeon. I guess crows never saw their debut in Dumbo. I guess those crows never heard of Brooklyn. Cement benches chipping away in parks that provide poor comfort, but anything’s better than the dirt. Because humans are not seeds, we just eat their fruit. We grow, change, and die but the comparison stops there. Mushrooms and eggplants.


Abacus beads across a horizontal, wooden rod being counted. A tight frame where we see the eyes behind bars, behind glasses. A lock of hair dangles over the frame, unnecessarily. Cool, but staged. Realizing the elegance of radicalization when it comes to understanding the precepts of mathematics. No time to think, do, or feel. Jeopardizing the big project. Sealed documents cover the table, now illegally unsealed. Waiting for a rainbow, waiting for a room to spin. Saint Patrick’s Day and our protagonist could spit diamonds. Secret bookshelf. Anne Frank. Distant runner. Long shot of a field. Perfect symmetry. Skies that besiege Scandinavia. Rolling rocks down long avalanche mountains, currying favor with Nature. Different energies at stake. Wraiths fly in three-dimensional figure eights in the air. Needing to know what comes next after the ‘Happily Ever After’. Stories never end. The stories just beget new stories. Officers having pipe dreams where they can do no wrong. Lullabies sing to sleep the lilies in a giant garden belonging to no one, where wildflowers run free and everything is safe. Crimson colorings on all the petals; The dominant genes are strong and if there’s anything I remember from biology it’s that. Turning off my mind.


Possession of mind, body, and spirit. A haunted house has maudlin black and grey walls. Antiquated wallpaper, still peeling from 1926. Marshmallow duck, stuck inside Easter bonnet, spooling and spilling through, melted on the floor so we must put on our galoshes to stomp in these sticky Easter puddles. Basket, hardwood floors; The house renewed. Different, but structurally the same. A necessary exorcism at Bobby Mack’s Music Hall in Kentucky. Ghost Adventures episodes. And a millennia of time that seems to have passed between then and now. Possession – As if women and people are objects. As if life is a game of control. I don’t understand how others live that way, guided by these subservient, toxic rules. The jig is up sooner than you think. Not sustainable. Cannot end well. 10 shots to the face for the feeling of being possessed by spirits. Or else, just really tired, fall asleep at the bar, things we still value over time are dumb. New traditions, new religions, new value system. Maybe we wouldn’t need a nuclear family if the bomb wasn’t such a threat. Possessed by conviction, haunted dolls sold on eBay (no thanks). Gumption, nerve, standing toe-to-toe with adversity. Staring down the eyes and mouth, looking at the belly of the beast – whatever beast that may be.