cracked raze they tell me if i step on the cracks in the concrete it'll snap your spine. i make every line a crack in my mind and alter my gait to get them all. i give them everything i have. all the love and ugliness i can't speak. i stomp on the sidewalk until my feet ache. at forty you have the knees of a ninety-year-old woman. i used to think those would be my knees someday. every time i heard a click or felt any stiffness or pain, i was sure my body was already ancient when i was still a child. but steroids did that to you. not genetics. what slowed your immune system to soothe the twisted tube that connected your ass to your mouth destroyed the cartilage in the modified hinge joints that let you bend your legs. now the rest of you crumbles, a stale cake devoid of flavour. guilt makes a knot in the pit of my stomach, but i can't stop. i try to imagine the last face you'll make. the expression you'll end with. all i see is what you've already shown me. there's nothing there. 220210 ... kerry geez, this really hit me. 220210 what's it to you? who go blather from