I’m sitting back in the courtyard writing you. Every so often I’ll look up above the enclosure and see the sky dying. It’s beautiful; reminds me of when we used to go to Mexico as kids. Up there nothing can touch you. The clouds are being pulled apart by the ocean’s gust and scatter in their opaque indifference. The bloodied claw of a bear scraping the coming night.
supported by 4 fans who also own “No Gods No Masters”
All I love with Napalm Death anno 1986-1989, especially the punk energy, is summerized in "Take aim". Wormrot of course stands on its own. Amazing. whaleheart