simply must go to the Silver Jews. My asthma and fear of close walls and underground things almost kept me from the cavern where they played their last show. If you listen closely to the tape, the baby crying is me.
Lives in East Nashville, Tennessee, prospering among the plum trees in an area formerly designated as wasteland. And now lovingly so. Attributes this - this living, this loving - to cruelty, and to poetry.
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Poem I wrote in Belgrade on a sunny February afternoon:
Your breath is idyllic
When you brush with Cyrillic
Across the Drina
I have a crush
Linguistic lover
Cyrillic toothbrush
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