cleave raze there's nothing but blue static on the screen when i turn the power on. i blow into the bottom of the eight-bit cartridge and shove it back into the console it came from. all i get are cut scenes from games that have nothing to do with this one. the joy pad won't do a thing. i can't tell if it's even plugged in. i give up and watch a film with a friend instead. without sound, we have to guess at what's being said. a man talks to a cartoon mouse three times his size. a kitchenette acid trip. i grab a blue tinted bottle of water from the hotel's mini fridge. it isn't cold. in a room with an unmade bed, i write a message for someone i love, tracing out words on a pink piece of cloth. each thought a cursive thread that fades as soon as the marks have been made. she finds a way to answer a letter i don't know how to send. "i wrap you up like a kitten," she says. "sworn, writ large, and merciful like my father." from somewhere my hands can't reach, thunder cleaves the night in two. 230811 what's it to you? who go blather from