PING:

The balmy faucet sounds of plastic. There–in their room–their upholstered bodies they learned under the ground glass their roomy temporal selves–a perpetual tense–holding in of a cough. HERO:There is a fly a housefly no a firefly a lightning bug no

Kin

I brought the girls cigarettes and magazines. Everyone told me not to; the doctors were quite clear. They’re dying, I said to the orderly who saw me slipping these treasures out from beneath my oversized black smock. She shook her