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oldephebe
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kinda like william boroughs meets ornette coleman and they penned a play, a musical blind folded and put plugs in their ears..and still yet this inate sense of music, chaotic, mischievous music still came through...monk would have liked this one...
...there are catepillars racing down the wall, while i wait to thread my wisk broom, an armada of non-descript volvos descends upon this churlish priest of crystal meth he's riding a shetland recently shorn of his saddle and in august the mospuitos off the lake in camp powhatten are impervious to spray, they gouged out a nice little hole in the thoracic cage...
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040310
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