made a machine by describing the landscapea child made out of a song about moneyour sex became a boxer who moved in next door retireda separate man we thought we knewjoked about him feared a little bit nodded helloadmired from a distancelike when leon spinx moevd into townmy leg falls asleep and becomes a telephone callwhispered on the black stairsthe cord disappears behind the kitchen doorbreathing in the pauses seeing how longwe can go without saying anything