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ArtistKeep as is
I fed Frank fish emulsion. He grew a leaf like a small green hand. Which brings me to vitrified nuclear waste. Glass logs glowing orange in the desert. They will outlast everything. Every god. Every apology. Every time you walked through me. They bury them in silver canisters under a mountain called Yucca. No one waits for these canisters. No one leaves a lamp burning. Frank and I are not like that. We are soft. We rot. That’s the whole point. Tomorrow I will feed Frank again. The waste will still be there. So will we.
