mere anarchy by Kevin Philip Williams and Paul Debenedictis

“Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.” - William Butler Yeats

In "All Works Incomplete" I am twenty-two. Dropped off at my parents' home in the middle of a late-summer night after taking the last train of the day out of Grand Central to escape the head cage of NYC. Wired with the anticipation of what the next day might bring and feeling the freedoms of space and darkness I wander out of the house and explore the rural night world.

In "Barely Anything" I am twenty-seven. It's a misty, warm, winter day, and a childhood friend and I are walking through a fallow field. I want to see the sumac oases and dried-up waterfalls we played in as kids. This was a pilgrimage.

In 2012, at twenty-nine, I awaited the apocalypse. 12/21/12 had been set firmly in my mind since I was young and had seen an environmental disaster special on tv. The effects of Superstorm Sandy were still visible throughout NYC and I envisioned an end that paralleled the violent summer storms of my childhood when trees would fall around and through our house and my mother would bundle me up in warm laundry and steal me away.

FEVER GRASS

NO FRIENDS
NO CONTROL
TIME TA MELT