"We play Icarus with air and invisible things. Threats and promises, sometimes love."
"The illicit mundane,
lurking in the back alleys of literature,
shooting up liquid boredom, screwing around with
disinterest and passivity, dealing in apathy,
busted with an ounce of crystal bland.
We're here. And it's quiet. We keep it on the low down."
Nominated for the Pushcart Prize 2003