The works

Trapped in an electronic dartboard. Come visit me at Half-Time Rec next time you are in Saint Paul.

Trapped in an electronic dartboard. Come visit me at Half-Time Rec next time you are in Saint Paul.

I’ve been doing different kinds of work. Working on learning how to grapple, how to be a partner, how to break up fights and prevent overdose deaths. Built a teeter-totter in the basement that launches the users’ heads right up into the floorboards. Chance of death or paralysis medium, concussion high. Wrapping my raw nerves with kratom gauze. Reading instruction manuals each morning while I ride trains and busses. They teach me the myriad ways in which my house is disintegrating. My wife and I sit inside and comment on the angles by which the light shines through the holes. It’s time for a new kind of work. It’s time to get on the teeter-totter and launch my fucking head through the floor of the kitchen, grinning like a maniac at whomever might walk in to ask “oh hello, what is it you’re working on now?”