*We've Come For Your Wild Goose Chase*Paul Siegell
In one free fall after another, Geronimo plants bombs on the US in 3D. Fatherlands play punk tracks to calm crocodiles at night in their cradles. Crib notes. Sketchpad scavenger hunt. WCW knows all the right words, but those two clowns with no clothes on say, “Let the light decide.” When I walked out a woman was untangling her headphone wires. They told me nothing about being alive to the possibilities of insomnia in the recession, but nonetheless invited my minefields to grow Galileos at every new nuking of her butter-flavored popcorn.
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