eat cash

we drink coffee
we eat cash
we dine
we dash!


elevators in my dreams

wait for us

my family

i try to coax them

off the cold concrete

where we stand

my family

i know up there

in the white paint sky

there is forgiveness

my family

there is renewed love

my family

we can go there

into the white paint sky

above which




email me. to death

Hi. We met and talked for ten random minutes. We traded emails, remember? I convinced you we had something in common.

Your intuition told you the digits should remain inaccessible.

Now, months later, I am slow and steady emailing you to death.

This is my fantasy. To know you, with or without your consent. Can you blame me?

Who wouldn’t want to know a girl with such long legs and eyelashes, perfect teeth and intuition?