sloW hours - Sandra Whittington

Our ulterior low-income gay4jesus GoodMorningAmerica chokehold. A hibiscus bouquet redemption attempt, the only job we wake up for is a counterfeit guerrilla power play humor. Our humdrum middle-class annihilated selves. Narrow hearted, railed against whatever else we had lying around. Unswept remorse cheap champion debris, a kinetic potency for Rivercity revivals. the sound of having one exit. Like learning how to speak and when to listen. A brick wall antebellum, hyper aware 1st world. It catches on and suddenly it’s not cool anymore. Better off as algorithm hype. west nile loud nitrous mafia nervous Jim Crow anti affirmative action If I had it my way the equator would be old news by now. Good luck persistence is arbitrary and will catch you off cue soapbox heights, hominid slang. Shockoe articulate banter, this is not two weeks notice or anyone’s fault. I condone drinking and stay for the sport, like all other selfdestructive habits. No one our age wants to be brave, that’s what the Keurig is for. Pitch less and deface more propaganda. Afro beta to do lists items. We don’t speak about money, or the places we avoid. We treat our failures like minor gods.