The album comes out in 1981 when you are four years
old. It sounds as if you are imprisoned
inside your cousins Atari. There are blips and syncopated dashes and high
pitched chimes. The cover is what looks like a swan saran-wrapped in a used prophylactic,
lost in a pubic nest of a baptismal sagebrush, trying to sprout in aching ornithological
guise caked behind a menstruating crimson sunset.
You will purchase the album ten years later when it
is known as a CD and comes in a rectangular cardboard box that looks like an elongated skyscraper when vertically placed in the sleeve.
Your girlfriend is three years older than you.
It is your girlfriend’s favorite band.
On the B-side of the album there is a song called I sometimes wish I was dead.
It is a happy song indeed.
You are four years old when the album comes out.
Sometimes you skulk down into your parents' basement and dream.
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