Rachel Short / 4’ 33” of Fear and Loathing I’ve been reckless for days, stored up enough passion to compose Gonzo Hunter S. meets Cage in tonal mortality— Death by gravity and satellite. 4’33” of fear and loathing: A depraved mind goes to the bourbon ball and dances with paint slated piano. Chocolate for lipstick, and a passion for a tripping, gripping waltz. The keys are junk, the floor is wet. Declarative sentences discarded like confetti. The saxophone player is locked in the bathroom. Someone pissed on his shoes. The next time you hold a candle to a fat ladies dress make sure she doesn’t smell of moonshine… (but that was the scream I was looking for) …standing ovations are strictly prohibited.
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