daniel drives a van and owns a saber

Computer labs and a new Spring. I've got a bag of peanut butter cookies and some sunglasses. There's a kid in a tyedye astronomy shirt at the computer across from me, smiling up at the florescent. Everybody's made of history and aesthetics. One phrase I'm really obsessed with right now is the chorus from that Killers song: ARE WE HUMAN OR ARE WE DANCER.

Though I'm reasonable enough to remain skeptical about the "staying power" of this phrase, right now it's totally all the rawk. Every three months or so, I'm like "Wait, what are The Killers up to?" If I had to classify them, I would call them the kids who learn what football is in third grade, then run home and get a liferaft and a glittery cape and a bucket of ham and bring these things to the football field and start screaming MARS IS FOR EMOTIONAL! MARS IS FOR EMOTIONAL! They are those kids.

This kid in an orange sweatshirt is flirting with one of the lab attendants. He's leaning his face in. She's swiveling her monitor back and forth in an appreciative way.

Somebody's got a mop and somebody's got capri pants. Here in the overcoat of my heart you're a burrowed parakeet. Not only that, but I've got a new story up at P.H. Madore's newly relaunched dispatch litareview. Nav your eyes over and click Current. The story's called "Ball of Dooshie Levitation." Whereas I've been accused of self-protective nonchalance, that's not something P.H. Madore has ever been accused of, I think. His magazine is red and pretty. Check it out.