Terror to the Tune of “I Think We’re Alone Now”

The gleaners have come and and gone. Cut stems in the field split under our steps and we are satisfied   with such noise—good land yielded to graveyard when we gave up our lucid dreams. Sleep is a fallow   investment at best, the shallow way of changing colour, but we thrash in the depths … Continue reading Terror to the Tune of “I Think We’re Alone Now”