I left my spleen on the train tracks. My spleen gave birth to what was dead. Stepped out and saw what was dead in front of my eyes. This lady’s expensive coat pressed up against me. I couldn’t feel the snake changing my body and turning me into a feral boy in tweed blazer and black dress. In my mind I was a snake, in my mind I was how could you not consider what was at stake. Five stakes drive into what is dead.