Kicking our feet back
Sinking into reclining chairs
Every grandmothers living room is home to them
Vinyl and cotton and stained with thick syrupy laughs that end with coughs
A minty breath
That spits out locations
Spots to hid ourselves
About Me.
- Emma Cherry
- In a yellow sumbarine, Liechtenstein
- We must blend into the choir Sing as static with the whole. We must memorize nine numbers and Deny we have a soul. And in this endless race for property and Privilege to be won. We must run, we must run, we must run.
