The pressure washers get the day off. Rain is making the rounds, rolling and dropping off corrugated steel roofing onto boutonnières and cigar box guitars. A pattern is selected, precisely. On the right, the pattern slides into ether; in the mud, lumps form on the left. Live wires sizzle light wild fire. Perch in the pond. Demolition drums and flare-ups.
They sit under the roof, watching the spread of the flood, pine cones at their feet, armed to the scales with tension. “‘Round and ‘round we go on the merry-go-round” when flung into the holding area, wrapped like flautas. One little fire rests its sustain on the pillow of drone, right before a shift in character, which is marked by the entrance of bit-processing and reckless fluting. Scattered showers pip in the background. The damp is stalling the dry detonation. It keeps the stunts inside the ring.
• ikuisuus: http://ikuisuuslabel.blogspot.com
More about: Avarus, Erik Bünger with Jan-Filip Ťupa
