Morning Comes Like A Scream Through A

I Grew Up North Of Chicago, Not Far From Where The Schwinn Bicycle Plant Used To Be, And Was Conscious Of The Fact That These Beautiful, Everlasting Bikes Were Made Just Down The Road.

For Years I Feared The Opening Of Every Elevator, Half-convinced That From The Opened Doors Would Come A Bullet, For Me, Shot By A Man In A Tan Trenchcoat. I Have No Idea Why I Feared This, Expected It To Happen. I Even Knew How I Would React To This Bullet Coming From The Elevator Door, What Word I Would Say. That Word Was: Finally.

Every Time My Brain Parks The Car Neatly In The Driveway, My Mouth Drives Through The Back Of The Garage.

I've Never Had Wifi At Home. I'm Too Easily Distracted, And Youtube Is Too Tempting.

We Are The Bright New Stars Born Of A Screaming Black Hole, The Nascent Suns Burst From The Darkness, From The Grasping Void Of Space That Folds And Swallows--a Darkness That Would Devour Anyone Not As Strong As We. We Are Oddities, Sideshows, Talk Show Subjects. We Capture Everyone's Imagination.