Right.
Ok. Of Montreal was a physical event. Some were the things that were lost, equilibrium, cash, function, the top of my flask rendering it a tin cup with no mobility now, some were the blue tape tears I wore to the cheeks, some too much so to form earthly language, some was the encore: "The Past is a Grotesque Animal" ( where 4:19 began optic visceral chant ).
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Nashville + poetry, tattoo or tree cut.
Missed Rick Hilles read, that was it, missed it.
The next Ciona Lyrical Brew is a Nashville picnic of sun: two local gents from the academy, plus a software developer. I am, in short, directly going, to society.
1/31. That ol' Barnes & Noble. 7pm.
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January,
still Kentucky, caves -
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And Detroit is for some at the hearts and lips I think. And writers. Like a bumper sticker inside of a red heart saying "Detroit is for writers."
