(no subject)

[personaminor]

The wash ends, leaving me in repose, as though I could now relate to the deceased mayor of Jerry Town, now call for an uneasy peace between warring thirteen-year-old nerves. The battlegrounds have been moving through; I would swear, from close scrutiny of the torn landscapes, that these conflicts have been raging for generations, passed on like heirlooms. The kyphosis sets in early these days.

We have created new children, immune to sand bags and bunkers, defenseless, disarmed vagrants, eyeing empty bottles with empty hands.