You were wringing your hands. The red shower stained the lawn. Ebb and flow. What we touch touches us, too. I say my life feels so small. You define spangle, set off a fireworks show and it melts in all its color glory onto the roof of the State building. We said we'd try again when we were a little older. In the corntown where we looked for each other, blinded by the church light. Strike three. Phone ringi ...Täielik kirjeldus
You were wringing your hands. The red shower stained the lawn. Ebb and flow. What we touch touches us, too. I say my life feels so small. You define spangle, set off a fireworks show and it melts in all its color glory onto the roof of the State building. We said we'd try again when we were a little older. In the corntown where we looked for each other, blinded by the church light. Strike three. Phone ringing Perhaps in a dream, perhaps in the middle of the night - "The year is 1998. Wild lambs roam each slaughter field. Beings from the sky, maybe." from "4th grade Existentialism in the Sky" A childhood spent wrestling with God and his machines. Night in the English Channel. The first synesthetic cowboy novel. "Poetry in itself is inherently chaotic, violent, and American." Earth & String is a book of Millennial discordance; the pulse beneath each groomed lawn among the oil tanks and native tombs.