Days as a Nonexistent Sarah Delap U
the vinyl spins round as expected verging on the right amount of frenzy. we’d gather around on most nights freezing and trying to figure out what to spend the electricity money on there were days of cold clear sun that we’d bottle up long after the apartment door had closed rare and lasting, everything has a momentary value stricken from rotations and mediations on the truth of the matter. nights of bourbon and jazz equal alpine winds of the heart. and the music -- listened to as an expression of insanity made sensible — a wind that comes up from nowhere a spark that has no base of oxygen, hydrogen carbon is the only constant after years of wondering what time the bitter train will arrive where the avenues will end when the waters will reach us.
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