Postmodern Rez Edge Inhalation: Paint Thinner Sublime

Chemical angels ride into this vacant room as walls and windows drip away into western fronts, post depression farm boundaries barely barb-wired together, enclosed stone pile pastures a gray horse standing still, facing north, a snort of breath drifting to a rail car passing horizon the wind hinting the spirit of ice nights so long you can only hope the red blood circling for warmth in your cells don’t freeze here with the rest of this lost American dream.