ask me about the radiant hat moon makes for that cloud face an hour before dawn ask me about sitting on gravel staring through
I am cash & carry, I need green. Teller, what’s my tell? I click heels. Pop gum. Twirl curls. I am in line, out-of-line,
Once language exists only to convey information, it is dying… Richard Hugo, The Triggering Town. The bank’s vault, loaded with the once friendly girls