From one roadside weed to another, another wayside attraction.

Walking through the waysides of the city, heat in the eastside, sweating through gastown. A woman leans out of the hotel window, her breasts hidden in the flowers tangled in the windowbox. Her eyes wild, high, beautiful crazy. Should I be scared, to be alone down here, on such a hot restless night?

You're a hard girl to figure out.

Look at me, look at me. I'm lost in a world of suburban wildflowers. Suburban mediocre life. Hours upon hours of mice, repetative commute. Snip tails, collect blood, red blood on beige sawdust, heat and humidity, dizzy with a thousand mice rustling around me. What am I doing here?

I haven't figured myself out.