architecture of my soul

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Nothing left but the recordings
Nothing left but the recordings- this was the title of a spoken word collection BT William S. Burroughs.

The album crossed my mind the other day.  During that decade, the spoken word had a deep meaning for me. It was the words-yes. But the delivery was the icing on the cake. I have assembled some poets that are near and dear to my youth here. These recordings of performances represent some of the architecture of my soul.








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