spells raze a man i was sure i knew from somewhere had to heckle his wife into helping him cast a shared spell. they stood in separate square partitions on the roof of their house and ran through one of the old routines. now you hug me hard in a dead woman's kitchen, not knowing why, but happy enough to be here with me. this is all part of the magic. you can't control the volume of your own voice. your monologue is a rambling grunge song without a band to back it. my mother chops onions while her sister-in-law makes her famous taco_dip and tells you to shut your mouth. i reach for the ugliest words i know and throw them in her face. she'll be gunning for me now. i'll hide like a skittish child in the basement of my first remembered home, unwinding a wire hanger, hoping to blind her one eye at a time. 250224 what's it to you? who go blather from