Sometimes it seems nothing perishes. Some dark meter's behind it all. I drift to sleep in the dawn-colored darkness of a fierce sun.
Billboards collide in the wilderness.
Aeons yawn, and the rains wash them away. Little by little, alliances shift, erstwhile enemies unite . . . In lockstep pallorous armed police parade the untimely ground. What goes haywire usually comes around . It's twilight here in the caravanserai . . .