Recorded at the Beggs family farm in Lake City, Florida ---------- Beer Can Island by Jordan Escobar
This mound of pagans perched fifteen miles from the coast of Tampa. Hot buzz and the swarm of little fish beneath the outrigger. Fifteen miles in fifteen years, a smudge of sweat like a whisper of mustache on their trembling lips. Quivering beyond shuttled rage, beyond rattling cans and the pleading look of a boy outside a liquor store. Hey Mister, more a demand than a question. And what booted God could deny youth their deliverance? An aluminum prow and the green paint peeling. This is what it feels like to feed a life: a warm slurp, a husky choke, eyes that roll back to nothingness and see everything.