A LETTER TO ABERNATHY

Dear Abernathy A golden disc floats in the space just above your head. Breathe deep and touch it with your index finger. Got it? Now bring it down into your skull (and the buzzing and clicking you hear should only prove this works) imagine your head turning to gold, a metal plating filling and overflowing out through the cracks that met when your soft-spot grew together, expanding and sliding across the surface of your face. Bring that disc down through your chest, through your sternum and stomach and intestines until you reach your crotch and think about that gold once again filling your lungs and making its way through your system, plating the waste in your digestive track, covering everything in your body inside and out, filling your testicles until theyre perched to burst. The sweat you feel is luminescent and beaming and it stands to reason that it is made of gold too, since it has filtered through you and you stand with your arms outstretched as the light sinks down your legs