shuffle raze the sound is split straight down the middle of the keyboard. upright bass on the left. piano on the right. the door drifts open. snippets of supremes songs stop you in your tracks. your father suggests sleeping on the bathroom floor. he slathers his hands with spit and scrubs the grime from the gums of an old toilet. but sleep won't come anywhere you lay your head. you're sure of that. you gather your gear for the journey home. signal amplifiers, their black bodies cocooned in coiled cords. the first microphone you ever owned. a stack of photographs that doubles as a deck of tarot cards. someone you know must be in there somewhere. you cut the pack and sift through scenes from silent movies. you can't find your face in any of them. you stare at a discarded stuffed animal where a couch was once and wonder what it might tell you if it could speak. you don't know if it's meant to be a large dog or a small bear. you kneel to pluck it from its resting place and say: whatever you are, you're coming with me. 250928 what's it to you? who go blather from