To Watch Someone Ache Inside A Lightbulb

"Easy streets are for squares!" the Greasers hurled at their flesh-paint graffiti walls. Their tendons strained against bursting columns, some of guns, some of glass. What did they mean by that? "Easy streets", where is there an easy anything? Even in kindergarten crayons break. Nothing's easy, everything turns out blurry, faded, or not at all the way you planned. As if someone else stitched the button on your shirt, someone inexperienced, dumb, someone like you seem to be." ~ Henry Silva, The Gore of Coring Apples

"I don't succeed, I fail, constantly. My arms break when I go to hug you, my bones splinter when I begin to run. Why can't I do the things you do? Why can't I bloom out of my braces and run to you? Why do I need scaffolding to breathe? Why does my head throb humorously against the cage you've set? Why do you incapacitate me so?" Carolyne Seem, Crushed

"One, two, three. One, two, three. In, out. In, out. In. Out. There's something so invertly sexual about rythmic things, things of and like this. Something, familiar. Even to the virgin eye it stems a wroth want in your carefully kept veins. Prudes, shining us on from your villa, like cheap dollar store daisies - we also stem from pots." Daniel Chag, Room Familiar