half_asleep_poem_ninety_seven raze my heart is a hole in the ground. my skull is an even ten, gambling on the roof of a friend. not since i turned against pigeons have i burned my own first memory. i got thunder with the radio. both are pale, and both appeal to me. at night, with shutter blinds, a light from the house quickly wanders. from a grander distance, the world trembles. may the words it holds follow suit. 241224 what's it to you? who go blather from