I crave teachback dynamite under my railroad bridge. I will be derailed and the schedules will be defamed. The wound on my abdomen from the train accident resembles the crab nebula. More signals from space. More marionette paranoia. Teachback is king and it's at your back door holding your fantastic fears of possession penetration mutilation transcendence wealth stability. It will take you in its inhuman hands and tenderly forcefully squeeze until you talk confess sing greet yourself. It's about self-deconstruction. Learning what you are made of. It's about getting beyond bed. Walking until your feet bleed so you'll know you that you can walk until your feet bleed. We'll make other impressions before our bones align in the soil or we snake out of crematorium smokestacks or our shadows are flash burned into the walls of our hometowns.