
Natural Leaf Wraps
The Screw Pack
Everything here plays a little slower than it was recorded. Purple under the streetlights, chrome on the wheels, a tape deck that has been fed the same cassette for twenty years. The city made a sound out of patience.


Slowed and steeped
Dark grape and blackberry, left to go deep instead of sweet. It arrives late and stays a while.

Twenty years on the same tape
Wound, rewound, worn thin at the head. Still the only copy anybody wants.

No reason to hurry
Tape in, windows up against the rain, the block going by at half speed. Nobody in this car is late for anything.
