rollerball raze it's the so-called boring moments i keep coming back to. the quiet before_and_after all the unchecked violence. deals made and unmade. finger skin split by glass curtains. glazed eyes betraying what the lips won't speak. sweat and slanted scars. a glass of red_wine halfway gone. a series of screens embedded in the wall of every room of a man's home, primed to play back all the memories he isn't willing to surrender. a bow tie askew after a private poetry reading. one friend asking after the dreams of another. "they're really quite beautiful, in a wild kind of way," a woman says to the executive she's been promised to. "you can almost smell the lions." the man who wears her like an appendage says, "don't be silly. they're made in detroit." 250120 what's it to you? who go blather from