porterhouse raze your grandfather's apartment isn't so different from the one you called home when you were thirteen and too torn-up to cry over anything that wasn't the end of the world. it's just a little more of a mess. the man who lords over this land finds him collapsed in front of his couch. he gathers the strength to stand when he sees you. your name in the throat of this liver-spotted child is shot through with so much hope it snaps your heart in two. while blood pools in his belly, he cuts the short loin of an animal bred to be eaten. his knife nicks the vertebral bone. makes a scraping sound. someone who knew about these things told you once that time was of the essence. they hung up the phone when you asked them how much of it they thought you might have. 251206 what's it to you? who go blather from