Spam Poetry
I could blog about work, or Sound Juicer, or new albums, or my trip to the Very Very Cold Helsinki, or the subsequent cold/lost voice I've developed, but no. Instead, have some Spam Poetry:
Their death row raid
in means lethargy high jinks
as exhumation fault.
dynamo or spring chicken
Inspired.
NP: He Has Left Us Alone, but Shafts of Light Sometimes Grace the Corners of Our Rooms..., A Silver Mt. Zion
