I’m looking at this apple, red like it could be in an apple advertisement, and I don’t trust it.
Like the Department of Corrections buys it off some sketchy apple orchard that takes their shitty apples and does something unnatural to make it shiny.
Goot asks me am I gonna eat the apple, fuck no, I never eat the damn apple, so I give it to him.
My grandfather ran Collins and Welke Agricultural & Land Bank in Caler City, Ohio.
Thought maybe I’d grow up to be a banker like him.
Tornado hit outside of Caler, ran through Wells, Dixonburg, Malsa.
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