Lenz kills the Nuck dog
Latin music drifting through the Spur’s Projects, twined around some 5/4 ’shine stuff from a boombox over off Feeny Park, and in between these a haunting plasm of Hawaiian-type music that sounds at once top-volume and far far away. The zithery drifting Polynesian strains make Bruce Green’s face spread in a flat mask of psychic pain he doesn’t even feel is there, and then the music’s gone.
Context
The Lenz/Green nocturne, 11 November: the Hawaiian music that will pull Green all the way to 412 W. Brainerd — and to witnessing the dog-killing — enters as "a haunting plasm," sourceless, top-volume and far away at once. Haunting-diction for a sound that behaves like a ghost, keyed to Green's buried Polynesian trauma.