christhayer

LIBERATION ct. 5.11.04 they hobble on titanium legs embrace their children with plastic arms shake hands with their iron hooks smile from behind melted faces, twisted and sagging like candles in the texas summer sun they speak of honor, duty, and of sacrifice, holding fast to their creed and ideals and training they wake at three in the morning several times a week, reaching desperately to save their phantom limbs or leap from their beads, seeking cover in their night-chilled comforters in heaps on the floor their young wives, having mournfully placed their newlywed plans in their hope chests, remain fait

AUTOPIA she speeds down the tree-lined raceway, sure she can handle it all by herself, despite the fact that i must operate the gas pedal (her legs are too short and weak to maintain the necessary pressure) every thirty feet or so the underbelly of the car slams into the concrete guide track, and sends us off in the right direction, two scrambled eggs in a gas powered, plastic vessel. we inch closer to the car ahead of us, occupied by her mother and big sister. she stomps heavily on my foot, pinning it, and the accelerator, to the floor. in the nick of time i manage to pry my foot away, bringing the vehicle to a califo