and.then.there.were.none.

'in the beginning,' the poem goes, 'you do whatever you can to survive.' i can never remember the rest of the poem. it is, in that way, a 'random act of literature.' because the thing with this site, right, (rhyme) is that i am hesitant to put anything on it that is not random or literary. this is a difficult criteria to stick to. to which to stick. that is. one example of a random act of literature is like this line above, i feel, a line of prose that disconnects from its context and referents and lodges itself firmly in the memory, or more appropriately floats freely in the synapse field, flashing and fading intermittently. 'in the beginning, you do whatever you can to survive.'