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Saturday

RAT MILK

SLEEP TOO HEAVY OR NOT AT ALL AND WAKE UP LIKE IT'S A SLOW RESURRECTION EVERY MORNING THE SUN IS A FULL WHITISH BLUB FLASHING THROUGH THE BLINDS, CUTTING THE LIGHT LIKE A KNIFE OR A BLONDE POWDER THAT RISES IN YOUR HEAD LIKE A HIT OF ADRENALINE AND WITH A JOLT, BEGINS THE CYCLICAL MOTION OF DAY TO NIGHT AND LIKE A SMALL ROTATING PLANET,
RIPS THROUGH THE HOURS LIKE A FOREST FIRE, TRAILING REAMS OF SCORCHED EARTH:CHARCOAL SHRINES, IN WHICH ONLY THE MOST RUTHLESS OF BEASTS CAN SURVIVE