Having a gentle strum on Gib the acoustic then suddenly it got all angsty and the Gretsch and Bass came out remembering powerful emotions from the past..Therapy over its back outside to kill some weeds...

a performance of the supernova II I did a week ago just now getting to edit it into things.. stub 1 of the bag 55. there are bags 1 and 2 and 3 all about hour long like bag 55,..

longer section of the supernova II performance last week,..

aka Bass VI Times Two with Mood 2

A bit of a strum before a bit of gardening and this one came out ...Thanks for listening If it was only Yesterday If Yesterday is just a day away then why does it feel so far away Those words buzz in my mind Their here to stay They…

part of the "living life from a bag" series of songs maybe a kind of album

The hot flashes had been the penumbra of an advancing torment. The idea was floated many times that, if I wanted to, I could turn the ship around. I could simply chose to look away from the other worlds I was seeing. That a smart, young, white…

wasn't even sure what I looked like anymore. Before I got sober, I remember staring at selfies taken on a Motorola Cliq. The grainy images blown up on an HP laptop. Black bags under my eyes, sallow flesh on a sad expression. Who even are you…

shan't

Another for the Neon Brainiacs Podcast Unofficial OST, which is an attempt to write a song inspired (no matter how loosely) by the film covered on each episode. This week was Friday the 13th from 1980 and this interpretation pulls some of the…

Lipograph Neutrinos fall through matter like shadow. Velvet lips twtch. Graveled edges blown onto dry stone capillaries, a knife out of water. Compressr/sustainr expresses sounds roundr, explicit – rattle the quakng…

DISTINCTION after INTIMACY by Ada Limón I detected in Almanac of the Dead, a clear, severe irony erupt between the limited author and a boundless conceit— the way whiteness codifies a lack of differences, of detailed vision…

Bite Your Tongue After: Of Silence. Drowned the Sound of Your Retreat by Jennifer Elise Foerster That was one way to let go, what identity borne in discussions of cats passed, by this cupboard of shadows scattered dusk-bound. The…

The Time Given –Where is it that fills the deepness I feel? You will say I'm not Robin the Hood, but how could I hide from top to foot, that I lost something in the hills? – Sibylle Baier, I Lost Something in the Hills I do alright by forgiveness…

That Day Came Someone married their car. They found great joy in the way some parts of it were proud and others shy, and vibrations of the revving engine. They added aftermarket ground effects to increase its sex appeal. The owner’s manual…

Don't listen to the brochures 1 I would see this rock, poking up through the melting clapboard, shingle, stucco, at the end of the House Age. All you see is a cliff, keep driving. The area is still very scenic, in spite of the missing icon…