The flatlands.
Afternoon thunderstorms.
Something about this place seems like everything would be easier here.
Nothings really cheaper.
It's always hot.
There's weird lizards everywhere.
Maybe it's Disney-tinged memories from years ago when everything seemed easy.
The roads are always empty.
Oh but the air conditioners are cold.
Yeah I could live in the air conditioning.
I want to live in the air conditioning.
I want to grab that armadillo and that fish-sucking crane, throw them in a car bound for Jersey and make a Florida room in the apartment.
We'll all be Republicans in polo shirts counting off the days in that strange dusk between drunk and exhausted
with lizards.
and degrees in Air Conditioning repair.
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