limited edition of 50
little blue dog song no. 2
You are my very favorite devil, my favorite delight . The hinge in the middle of my body that opens to a room full of forgotten phone books, the strange species that quarries and worries over classified ads and classic cars. Such spaciousness is terrifying, a thick black open of the interior. The dark spreads its tentacles along the infrastructure, sings like static of a lobby tv set. The rough weather of my spine takes up a lot of space, but I can recite nursery rhymes by memory, honey my voice to a whisper. Gust and swarm until there is nothing left but the gas station adjacent to the all-night market. The single bulb above the pump. The single leash hooked on the wall.