The garage is kept warm by kerosene and ire.
There is a box of bolts, a box of screws and nuts
& clamps
& saws
& planes
& everything
that cuts, holds, smooths 
& fixes what it makes. In outer space:

(((((0)))))

begins to drift across some portion of the universe. The first star gripped by that nothing folds into itself like a father

and vanishes.

David Hornibrook
03 31 16