1. |
alabama
02:53
|
|||
the entire town's
tied themselves down
to the train tracks.
alabama
(there were
colors between
eyelids.)
we cast our shadows
without
touching
the ground.
alabama
(there were
colors between
eyelids.)
|
||||
2. |
venison
05:24
|
|||
i wont wait for yesterday
& all her pinky promises
of tomorrow.
force feed me more pages of
ripple word puddle diaries.
toss chum in my nauseating
nostalgia for the sharks of my regret
to tear apart piece by piece.
autumn leaves leave a trace
of the tree i used to be.
see-saws & stray dogs
that look like me
(we're pulling teeth).
why do we use our mouths to smile?
under lampposts
i glow orange
walking home
every night.
i lay
down my
antlers before
yr headlights.
|
||||
3. |
alsace-lorraine
03:00
|
|||
sophie, i lay my bones at your feet
dangling from the sycamore tree.
it's branches recoil in fever dreams
& everybody’s still waving from the street.
all the dogs in the neighborhood
have run away.
they know something we don't
but are too afraid
to say it to our face.
|
||||
4. |
dob bylan
03:18
|
|||
hey, hey bob dylan
have you looked outside today?
police are arresting the hanging,
the landlord’s come to collect his rent—
he’s out on my porch steps
loading his revolver,
it’s his face on the dollar
& he’ll never ever let you forget.
he don’t care i go by your word,
he’s screaming for his check
but i spent it on all on sixty six bootlegs again.
hey, hey bob dylan,
when will the president
light my cigarette?
bob dylan’s my best friend,
bob dylan is my leader,
my savior, my dealer, my comrade,
my mom and my dad.
hey, hey bob dylan,
i’m at your command
|
||||
5. |
||||
the furniture's on fire
out in the front yard.
the roadkill's still barking
& cars crash where we laid
pointing out the distance
between us &
the constellations.
and i said,
"i've grown as tall as i'll ever be but they seem more out of reach now than they ever did back then."
so you looked up at the sky,
to a morning faded moon,
as the sun spun around you
& only you.
where my reflection ends,
& the mirror begins,
layers & layers of skin
separate you from me.
& in my backyard
theres a patch of grass
still growing
to the contours of yr spine.
|
Home Is Where Palm Coast, Florida
our band could be
yr neighborhood.
home is where forever
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