Bombing along in the rental car. Slashing down across the latitudes. Through Indiana, Kentucky, Tennessee. Sampled riffs from every electric guitar passage he'd ever heard blooming audibly in his ears, warping along through the miles, random tapestries of collagistic sound.

Now and again long dim shapes, faintly red, seemingly swaddled, marched aslant through his visuals, crossing the opposite lane, winding in and among the streaming lights of northbound traffic. Like marching columns of men. Soldiers. Prisoners. Penitents. Sorcery

Me? All of the above

How I despise these android dreams