Tuesday, July 10, 2007
100 Words on Townes van Zandt
Life is wet and sticky but the wind that blows through it is bone dry, knocking all loose things together, gale vs. dented metal trashcans, and when his mama gets beat with a belt because she cried you want to check out with her because the world is hard and dry and ruthless and that howling wind blows hollow through his warning fables about loose women and lost friends because he’s not going to heed them nor does he expect you to, it’s all arid wind blowing junkyard wind chimes and lonesome souls cowering under tarps, huddled together, alone.
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