after the realization

i pry these pages open and bury my face in the acid smell of dark intent - this is the way you violate a woman, even a woman who answers the door and tells you she wants it, wants it badly, grinning through bad grammar and cheap booze. this is the way you live, forcing your overfed american body through the air, barfing in a language no one understands, text abbreviations drooling over your dials, an underage traveler who lingers in back alleys waiting for a bootlegger, shoplifting opinions from walmart and the quick stop, tabloids covering bruises like sweatshirts over preteen pregnancies. this is the United States of Big Ass Commerce, we shoot everybody, oil for heroin, coach is the poor man's birkin, and political ads are printed on redwood trees, even the natives have forgotten why they are here, they wander the fields they die in and look for the great spirit. you know, the one we all learned about from watching dances with wolves.

we all forgot about the mountains.

the library is a lost art.

i smother myself with a book, a nearly sexual act, searching for penetration and meaning.