... Bill Campana
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auditorial music plays like a storm applause follows like hard rain on concrete the velvet seat becomes another world. i don't mind when music is a bicycle chain thrashed against a floor. i get the rhythm. i expect a floor to be a drum and my footsteps a metronome for the clumsy dance that is out of this world. applaud only when the music has stopped. i told you the last time you came around i wanted to know what you had for me. information or incantation material or ethereal the edge of my chair became comfortable because i can get used to anything. hello, drama. is that you who has been leaving silent messages on my answering machine? are you the one who has been painting my light moments jet-red? are you aware that i'm not afraid of you? that no matter how far you go and how much damage you try to give me, i will flinch less and less and eventually laugh harder and louder. i told you the last time you came around that we were through. i find it very un drama like that you weren't listening. JOHNNY CASH baritone angel trade your guitar for a harp wear the black halo even though your voice sounded like it had been flushed down a burning toilet we still listened. Main Page
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