[INT. MINE — NIGHT] The rumble of distant drums. Echoes of shouts. Danger looms. SHORT ROUND and WILLIE are already crammed into a rickety MINE CART, panicked and squirming. Dust settles as INDY strolls into frame — calm, composed, clipboard and pen in hand. INDY I’ll need each of you to sign this release form. (holds up clipboard) You can read it if you’d like, but it’s basically saying you release me from any personal responsibility for any outcomes of this mine cart ride.

We’ve reviewed your claim. Unfortunately— wolves huffing and puffing are not covered under your current policy. Thank you. If you don’t mind, can you complete a short survey for our customer service team? #poetry

Three weeks in the desert. I caught my shadow sneaking a drink. I tried to grab it.

we are one, my love we fuse our bodies and souls it's the lichen way I think if lichen could write poetry, this would be it. (Note: A lichen is not one plant. It is a fungus and an alga living together in a relationship so close they literally cannot survive apart. It is the ultimate co-dependency.) #poetry

Defenestration