Baby Benny Wildfire

A musical visual linguistic inferno cultivated in the Niagara Escarpment. Many hear the fire crackling, but few ever smell it's smoke, or see it in action, for it is so very tiny, and only occurs in the crevasses.

Tell me to be somewhere I’m already at,

someone get my cat a yoga mat,

to stretch and shed his coat there,

watch my hand,

your eyelids are wood shop clamps

watch my hand,

conducting symbolic techno-trance

dance parties in my living room,