Appendectomy or the cannula speaks by Mckendy Fils-Aime its never about the human, the day or so it takes them to surrender. your necrotic song filling the hollows of small intestine. the body two stepping to fever sweat rhythm, but you: a derailed ruby train abandoned on the outskirts of town. purpose gone millennia ago. now patience is an ache settled in your gears. I know this pain spreading from below nerve & terror towards the human's throat is just you squirming for death or freedom. Sometimes I dream that you are not an appendage at all, but a cowboy; procaine horse looping around the body like a circuit until the town goes quiet enough for me to sneak in, my metal silhouette bursting with light: aluminum angel descending. I grab your hand & pull. Gyroscope Review 9!