whistling raze i was sure i heard you whistling before you left for work this morning. such a cheerful soundtrack for fumbling with the deadbolt on the front door. when i asked about it later, you said, "the day i whistle in the morning, something's fucked." so it wasn't you. it must have been some avian thought that brushed against my brain while i sank into the last bit of sleep i would allow myself before i forced my eyes open. i hope i hear it again. i want to know how fucked the day can get. 220427 what's it to you? who go blather from