Hints on funk that barely stank off the lip. Note of fruity screw vibes barely hanging on. Spending the night in New World Mall’s grocery-store antique section, where them long-padded benches be. Staring at an androgynous porcelain statue for too long. So you spark up the conversation to avoid the awkwardness of the whole situation. And you explain exactly that “situation.” When the escalators flick on and you startle. Security-like henchmen come to collect your soul’s bidding. The Naughty Night just getting started. The hench capture and ☒ your existence. Now escaped and with only a single purpose: put meaning to an Eternal August:
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