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lyrics

It’s a bolt from the theatre for me, as I am alone in the audience, not wanting to glimpse your sagging elephant flesh as the curtain parts.

My footfalls land like heavy pebbles on the surface of the moon, and this carpet is like flypaper as I move out the glass doorway, past the screaming woman, and into the fog. Through the wrought-iron gate and glancing up at a window two dark shadows move beyond touch of floor lamp as the men start in their places, and I know that this is for real. I really am a monster, and she really is my victim. Jack the Ripper is born.

credits

from Curtains: Readings from Molotov by Tom Baker, released November 9, 2019

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Extreme Volume Pop Indiana

Hopefully, my various musics are ultimately like magic bullets that enter and impact at the base of the skull, ricochet around the brain chamber, and then leave a gaping exit wound in the forehead. You may hate them


Since 2006!

Keep the arts alive--

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Paypal: bookofmalachi2003@yahoo.com


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