demotape (i)
i have foreseen disaster. came upon me monsoon like in calabritto, where hushed squares cleared out under threat from dreary sky. the shape it took bared no resemblance to that which walks beside through gridlock and haze of american chemical dream. what could’ve been learned if time had been taken back instead of relinquished to concrete curandera; who blessed me with a pain, intricate as the bond forged through sheer will, crashing against the tide of naysayers who saw heart’s wreckage beyond the mirage?











