1. |
Place Holder
02:23
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I should have written love letters all along
instead of spelling out what was not wanted in silence.
and so I lost my voice ---
content to seek an accuracy I would want
to speak
or at least understand
within my self
an outline around my form where there should be none
and I am the blank page babbled upon
scrawl rewritten to name what I have not done
I am the last drop of ink spread thin and desperate.
What were those words that I tried to remember?
the Lexis muttered upon my tongue turns it heavy
It struck hard; a violent chord within my throat.
It made me; it sounded me out like the vowels of a howl.
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2. |
All Observer
03:48
|
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|
Half of the last left
the back of my throat is tendered coal
loaned from paper fire
handed out for droves
taken aback for the sake of taking
and when the earth turns it low moans
so we won’t feel it
drown in its motion or go down in its drone
The ship sailed the other day
amidst the late morning haze
to a shore we can’t see
or choose to believe
Free the frost in staggered gasps
in belated winter when it should be spring
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3. |
M
04:16
|
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4. |
||||
|
nocturnal in the daytime
mouthed out the last rhyme
thread ley-lines
through the flight of light
in the high wound come down
the take home is barely fair bound
in the quiet throng of knowing now
patient silence is common ground
begging in the rain for a name
or a fate to tame the synchophony in this white birdcage
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5. |
Peachfuzz
02:06
|
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6. |
Derelict
02:09
|
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|
I’ve boarded a sinking ship
tossed my coin in the lake
I’ve propositioned the last claim
in a land of hurried longing
Down I go
for the foremost complied
with what to show
I’ve cashed in my eyes
Hunched tough spine
with the weight of foundation
built with whale bones
left to bleach in the sun
but like a dreamer in the sway
old ocean tide pulls in always
free the wind to find the end
hoist a sail and ride against
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7. |
King Carrion
03:08
|
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|
Give me my antlers and I’ll give up my ghost
bare bones
strip skin, little teeth
open up
and have a mess to clean
my mind is a crowed moon
waning in the day
separation of a
moth in flight
smoke trail
endless inhale
Summer’s end hosts:
cloud columns at night
head bowed in tempest
take rest when steady motions sets
forms
made peace
maintained
often erroneous still frame
maimed and changed
a body to make the motions mend
give the body the bends
living in
a body haunted
ghost hope
mottled morning wanes
A house of birds is my name
stealing wings to make me tame
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8. |
The Bends
01:40
|
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9. |
Transmigration
01:03
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10. |
Night Terror
02:07
|
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|
My mother sings still,
as she sleeps within the sun,
I glimpse and go blind.
My father will wail,
howling about tomorrow,
tearing at his throat.
A still spectacle,
black curious wings quick clipped,
flightless without sight.
Lain light, half shadows,
swallow wallows home sallow,
soft morning glow looms.
Darkness deafening
eyesight mired, making shapes
naught in the silence
Hollow birch blooms out
towards the loon moon-setting
against her psalm skin
An absence in space
void humming, sung all winter
quickness of deep sleep
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11. |
The Devil is Always Home
02:42
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