Interview w/ a rogue: Sorry, I have no association I can share. I was held up at work as singing birds flew by from everywhere. I don’t know why. When I was alive I stuck my fingers down my throat to empty it. I am yet to be reborn and am thus a saint.


A saint learns to kiss her life goodbye. After the credits an aggressor opens with a right cross. I usually fall asleep in the saint patrol wagon whooshing off. Rich, aren’t we? I mean in conflations of fate.