the less I know. But knowing is a bolted horse, you keep chasing after it until you can’t draw another breath. Only fools think they’re smart, who do they measure up against when the night stretches out beyond all reckoning? I look at the shows coming up here and I still want to go, still curious. But I’ve known these places and spaces too long, could do with a change of the scenery. I’ve hung around until I’m a ghost in my own bad novella. Time set in amber. But I’m just catching my breath, watching for the cracks.