It’s hard for me to take any credit.
I’m a floater of cynicism when it comes to influences.

Early on our folks taught us to celebrate country music!
Burp through the microphone, Earl! and stare ahead.
It’s a joke — I hadn’t spoken to you. I imagined
a construction zone perforated by echoes, swindles,
procedural lunges toward extra gags. Not taking credit. But I see I had.