With his iPod all the way up, nothing in this
world can touch him. Just over his pulse
is a fresh tattoo- a dotted line and the words
-----Cut Here-----

Grief is a street he skates down. "Hey,
donkey's ass!" He bides his time, sanding
away his fingerprints, wondering how he
could get his assailants in one room.

Author: Ron Koertge

With his iPod all the way up, nothing in this<br />world can touch him. Just over his pulse<br />is a fresh tattoo- a dotted line and the words<br />-----Cut Here-----<br /><br />Grief is a street he skates down. "Hey,<br />donkey's ass!" He bides his time, sanding<br />away his fingerprints, wondering how he<br />could get his assailants in one room. - Ron Koertge



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