It is a place, well, two places, really.
One is a private park in New York. The other is 40 acres. One is home, the other home, at least it was. Until it was taken over by blind ignorance.
Ketamine, cocaine, Swarovski, pizza, ice cream, dancing, sex. That was my “Spring Break place.” He was my replacement family and I liked it a lot.
He worked for a corporate bank, liked his ego stroked, I let him believe what he wanted. I appreciate his insight to the world he lived in, cold. Harsh. The top and the bottom of the money hellhole. I went with him to his office, it was very sexy in the heart of NYC. The heart of the snake pit.
The summer place had become only a childhood memory. Taken over by unasked questions and unanswered glares. It became a sword in the side of land and a joke of superimposed separation of sexism and sanity. A horsetranqulized induced subsanction of subhumanity with limited compassion or reason.
A well-deserved burning of a familial association. Goodbye, snakes.
Hello, Hornets. Buzz buzz.
Most Valuable Earth 