CHRIS REPPUCCI

In the interim between dark Moons the fiery red hot rod melted into a paddle wheel river boat, sending fans slowly through the muddy slurry, and the sky high hot air balloon shrunk into an Ox landing four hooves into the muck with a muffled thud. In the ditch where we found ourselves bailing brown water from the puddle into the channel pale by pale we could still remember yesterdays fission, the sparks and nuclear chain reactions that spat out newspaper clippings and inciner