Gone Lawn, By Night

Ekeing out a few more passionate responses to Gone Lawn 8

Forgive me for turning j/j hastain’s very serious epistlotory confession into a metaphysical game of What’s My Line? but the foregrounding of the line breaks pushed me there of their own accord.

 

And the mystery guest who signs in? 

Why, Joan of Arc, with her camber and coil, more fascinating than Brecht, Shaw or Anouilh ever made her.

David Hadbawnik’s homage to Spaulding Grey. 

 Eerie how on the mark he gets it. But why would he want to? Makes me terribly curious about The White Album as a whole.

 Is it a collection of impersonations of white men in all their varieties of whiteness?