We’ve seen it before. Sardines praise God when the key twists the tin back. The wind blows the long brown locks of the prisoner’s hair as he breathes the fresh blue air. Out in the plains, the clouds break up. Now we’re free.
Coastline, coasting, cruising, streamline, airborne, horizon. Talking vast talk. When did the scope of rock move from the dance hall to the big round ball? Suspirians might know. We’ll have to get to command center first to find out where their transmission is coming from. Right now, out in the plains, their transmission is deafening. Some of that universal surround sound must have bounced off a canyon somewhere.
The eyes see you. The eyes are everywhere, orbitting; they all belong to the same entity. Image is conveyed to the command center, turning vision into Big Sound, an earthly and epic sound.
Vitamin D in the dirt; the wheels shoot the dirt through the window and into your mouth like Skittles. Don’t have to stop moving to take a leak. The sky is hot blue but turning white, brighter and brighter. 93 mph. The road pushes the bumper, the light pulls the fender. Behind the wheel, you do very little to contribute to the journey except root around for your lost pair of sunglasses and eat dirt.
The Suspirians are Marisa Pool, Stephanie Demopulos and Lisa Cameron. Their second album, Ti Bon Ange (Super Secret Records) will be released June 9.
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