“Kudzu, the great arteries of an invisible heart, carrying its accursed ichor to endless veins. It uses life as oxygen, slowly sucking away life from plants and animals, feeding itself and only itself in a world that doesn't belong to it. The houses beside the railroad are covered in the pulsing veins of kudzu, either through lack of care, or no one within the houses cares anyway.

Once, my ancestors walked out here, walking over the railroad, shiny and new, erected by wealthy hands, chasing gold and hope. But kudzu licked their ankles, kudzu ensnared their legs, and kudzu became their bones. As I walk back, the shadows of the trees are figures, encased in leaves of green greed.” Student Ruby Castenada