Making an oldies playlist like it’s 1995 and I’m smoking clove cigarettes while speeding down I-75 to the Packard Plant or Saint Andrew’s Hall.
Ohio. Sunset: 8:54pm. The moon is brand new, my computer gave me an eye exam, and Johnny Cash is growling “I See a Darkness” across 140 beats per minute.
Another frigid and atmospherically pointless day without any snow. My brand new cassette tape arrived.
Tonight I’m craving the kerchunk of a rewind button and the ritual of scotch-taping the edge of a cassette
This morning I came across a stray photograph from my mother’s things, and something about it looks like a scene from a dream.
Why are so many visions of the future cast in cool tones? Blues and greys, whites and silvers.
