"Indignant notes on territorial intent, I dedicate this early work to propositions overturned, branches blowing free of ice, my friends and any children they might have, the dogs allowed offleash in Oakland and Sunol. Here I start believing song describes the powerline or patio that hosts it, minus any notions of terrain. Big forces migrate through the little games released into a populace: Three Strikes laws, missing children, ads in which the happy finish off each other’s sentences
Seen from above the private life looks like a dot, but feels more like coordinated spheres. They stay related death releases them. Her voice both bored and low, detaining strangers temporarily, as on a bus at night. Walgreens bloom wherever looked for while we climb the flattened stairs. A kind of thunderous tinkling when you grip the parts you love respond. Thing makes an anagram of night comes back, unchanged. The time was any evening after work, the small one getting started though inclined"