Runtz

Things feel austere but I’m still unsure what that word denotes. I crawled into

a hole on Pell Street and refused to dig for intention. 48 calories in 24 hours

breeds a mathematical consistency, an Aristotelian state of grace. We walked

in the cemetery with no desire, pure being. My friends write and write in

beautiful circles while I stretch stretch stretch for a system to turn blankness

into something. They told me to look for a legit mirror but such an object

seems physically and ontologically implausible. Jackson and I sublimated our