The Alan Sondheim Mail Archive

skip the accidentals sarangi

if i were you i'd jump around on this. going in for
harbors which coalesce towards the end of this
bitterly ungainly piece. one again i'm through with
music, i still have the residue of flu, azure's got
it, we are going to live here on bread and water in
this shunning hating town i can hear hoards running
down the street just now. i think i filled the enough
language. some of this you might like but i truly
doubt it. i'm on stilts.

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