The frenetic signal lost from Luxembourg
at 0045 hours nightly, gave me time
to retune the transistor to the long
wave, ghost whining of empty air.
White mono earphone crackling
as a warm and soothing treacle prayer
sounded; a languid, liquid lullaby
“Plymouth, Biscay, Finisterre…”
| crabmansmith on Love Death and the Crucial Thr… | |
| Will on Love Death and the Crucial Thr… | |
| crabmansmith on Love Death and the Crucial Thr… | |
| Mark S on Is this thing on? | |
| Will on Guya – Page 10 |
| crabmansmith on Love Death and the Crucial Thr… | |
| Will on Love Death and the Crucial Thr… | |
| crabmansmith on Love Death and the Crucial Thr… | |
| Mark S on Is this thing on? | |
| Will on Guya – Page 10 |
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