ruination raze his seven names have reconfigured our own. now we're half of what we used to be. he's here in the strangeness of this store, and in the novelty items that aren't for sale, that scream about how smart they think they are without making a sound. he says i look like someone who sweats a lot. his way of trying to get under my skin. but i'm bone-dry and unbothered by the off-target slight. i tell him there's no place for his hubris in our room of rumination. the last of these words loses its third letter and stains the first page of a thin hardback book that cradles a fistful of our more memorable stories. one title deep in the table of contents is a mournful melody. you sweep your bow across black ink and smear it into something sweet enough to swear by. 260206 what's it to you? who go blather from