How many fires must i set before everything is illuminated? How do i reveal anything, even the secret lives of angels? How can i contain the ardor and the energy of life in the words i find along the way? At some point the effort to expose will burn me down and out. And my ashes will be a final testament to how you repair creation by refusing to stay still.
In which a long-time record collector and sometimes poet shares shares vinyl finds, words of worth, and plays keep or cull.
Chasing Perfect Sound Forever 