2024 raze morning comes too soon. night never lasts as long as it should. between those slim fraternal twins, static strafes the skyline i call mine. time isn't a circle. it's a fist with flattened knuckles. you roll me like an unseen stone and turn your back while i gather the guts of flowerless plants. the clothes that cover me are the same colour as the paper i glued over last year's dying daze so i could mark the first phase of this four-digit flag stop with my own unsteady hand. 240101 what's it to you? who go blather from