Roland Jooris wrote a poem called Village in which he states in the first stanza:
a village is a circle/ drawn by a hand/ around a church;
It’s been so long since I’ve been to church. Oh, if only Fernando were alive, instead he’s not and can not woo me with his sense of boredom and disgust. If only you were not so distant to me now. I think I’ve lost touch. Your every move is no longer a heartfelt preservation in my mind, more like an objective idea. To this day people, random strangers write to me to discuss your latest ‘goings on’ and what can I say? But: did he really? Where did you hear that? I haven’t heard that!
At any rate, I’m still making my way out of congruity. Still plugging along, as they say. Still scouring with brutality the digital news I can gather, here and there, when I’m not working or driving somewhere or writing some silly poem. I will be among the many attendees August 11th in Arizona. I’m sure you’ll be great. I’m equally sure my heart will be torn into a thousand pieces of red.
I love your new album. I listen to it every single day. It is of a different temperature, full of nostalgia. I love it. I eat nostalgia for breakfast. I swallow blue imagination until my throat bursts.
