Michael Earl Craig Hotel Finlen My pasty barked when I cut into it. Big trucks banged the dumpsters. Seemed actually to fuck them. That was earlier. Now a white slice of hall light from under the closed door. And somewhere in the dark on the bureau the chained saint Christopher beside cough drops. You Should Be Hearing the Sound That a Marble Makes There is a marble rolling slowly toward you. A marble that can roll uphill. Slowly over books. Or a pile of laundry. Doing a "load of socks."