blasted galactic melt my entire drive down to ruston, whippin’ past minivans carefully stickered w/ my kids in karate school bumperfucks, gold and white hearses, clucker’s chicken barns, junkyards piled so high old bathtubs were leaning OVER the road, a cluster of ugly stray labradors sniffing at a dead skunk right outside of belcher.

my love for all the pimple-wart-ingrown hair of a town(s) that lay lowly and sad across the gravel-scraping gut of the americas knows no bounds.