this year -- 2020, the chinese year of the rat -- has felt like a pest swept through and upended everyone's preparations and expectations for the future. christmas feels no different, and so a story unfolds. the rat who (tried to) steal christmas. through 16 postcard scenes, the story of the rat who (tried to) steal christmas depicts the rat's curious yet mischievous antics and santa claus' reaction to the chaos.
i'd strung you up in twine and fine branches and imagination fragments your voice followed suit in feathers which i tied to that crooked ring hanging up how ridiculous to chain compression waves when they are in fact like wings in your throat to pin you down in dreams was a fucking waste like taking life from a gull or serenading the soul of some captain hoping he'll stay and listen and peer through the torrents of rotating face and open his lips to sound like water but your voice cast open webs capable of trapping my lids so i could drift off in something immense something wider than wind and sharper than spit i saw you in those depths as tides realigned and i casted the net i listened
new year’s eve 2019