mischief raze it's just me and a hungry rat on this raised cement floor. we make a fine pair. a man steps out of his parked car across_the_street and into the warp and weft of winter's worst. says something dirty about the damage done in the name of home repair. disappears behind a swinging screen door. the smiling septuagenarian on the balcony beside mine thinks i must be like him. old and cold and alone. standing out here sucking on a piece of uncooked pasta like it's a cigarette i can't bring myself to burn. i don't know how he can weather this wind without a coat. i'm bundled up like an arctic bride and i can't feel my fingers or my face. he invites me inside for something warm to eat. i make myself sound more ancient than i am and tell him someday i might take him up on the offer. but not today. i've got my own trouble to find or be found by. 260125 what's it to you? who go blather from