slaked raze he sweeps his son's legs out from under him and watches him fall face-first onto a picnic table. the boy's mother comforts him while he cries. she speaks of cuts and boosts and watches you unscrew the bald bulb that hangs above an untended toilet. between the plush seats of a theatre i find a woman you once loved. only her ears show her age. she starts to say something about a september you spent here together before i was born but trails off, too tied up in the memory to move it from her mouth to my mind. she smiles when she sees you. there's a question she wanted to ask. she can't remember what it was. 261109 what's it to you? who go blather from