MORNING HAS BROKEN
An excerpt from the "I Can Still Smile Like Errol Flynn" publication, this is a piece about... When morning broke it shattered, not of its own volition. The evening before, I set it up, stacking pieces precariously, balancing neurons on memories, ganglia tenuously holding on, soaked in dank fissures of brain. When morning broke it shattered, acute shards of regret piercing my consciousness, hacking at hope like a vicious Samurai slicing away my best yens, like a Sumo sittin o