17. Undated Photograph
The sun is shining like it did in that undated photograph.
Some day, some summer.
On overgrown plants. On overgrown hair.
On the streets you once knew.
The earth gently
undulates
away from here.
More plumbing the depths of Midwestern memory. The thick air of summer, the animal sounds. Maybe you had to be there.
Here we have ring-modulated guitar, a taishokoto sample run through the Language Master, and a little orange chirping device that had Dennis the Menace on the box.
This song is from Celesteville's Transcriptionists, whose packaging consisted of several mimeographed index cards inside an envelope. One of the index cards was an index of subjects (including "Iowa" and "passive responses to situations requiring action") and another was an index of mistakes (including "vocabulary issues"). I should scan those.
