Magic Tarpit Rides
Woke up this morning to find there was a wide gloopy pool of sweet-scented treacle where my yard was yesterday; bubbles rising to its surface seemed momentarily to shine with the visages of Dorothy Moskovitz and Exene Cervenka, then burst in steamy plumes, but at their most swollen they each left a distinct impression of J. Temperance, & now I just can't shake it off. I come inside, I'm drawn to the window, gazing at the vapour; before y'know it, out I go again, perched precariously at the lip of the pool, breathing deep & waiting for the bubble that looks like Kim Pieters to surface again. This disc's like that. A pair of Aussies so smart you'd mistake 'em for Kiwis, & the finest Southern-hemispheric export since "Eusa Kills". Don't fight it; dive on in.
