1. |
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"Sorry, did you want to get immersed in our world? Yeah, well guess what: FUCKING PRONOUNS!"
this notebook smells like blood
and even in my dreams
i can feel the flood
dilute the dregs of me
feel somehow less human
in moments of fine-tuning
a dotted plastic nameplate
flammable in freight
reading rings of tree stumps
salt in failing veins
invite another month
contribute all its rain
silence makes the sound
everything root-bound
rain-soaked ground uncertain
drop the curtain
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2. |
Ghouled Out (No Biting)
03:06
|
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i buried an old friend on the riverbank,
with someone else's grave
could never build above a poeTIC blank,
i hope our DEBTS WERE PAID
you've been falling apart now endlessly
you can't ignore the rust anymore
tired of checking the door behind me
i'll die trying but you won't die at all
don't bother looking when you know i'll be gone
with your remaining clothes folded on the lawn
no way to implement, arrange unfurnished homes
this body is a circuit, OPENED AND NEVER CLOSED
NEVER CLOSED
bottle a shot of bright blue light
reflecting in the window panes
shouldn't i be used to the night?
laid out on the front lawn
and my eyes both seemed to melt
what now if this stops by dawn,
what's left if she were gone?
i'm left with the remains the flood didn't take
(THE FLOOD DIDN'T TAKE)
the idea of what my plans could have made
(I COULD NEVER MAKE)
but all the pieces i'd build it up with
scattered across a foreign campus in the wind
YOU CANT FEEL THE KNIFE UNTIL YOU LOOK DOWN
BY THEN THE BLOOD'S BECOME A SHOW ATOP THE GOWN
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3. |
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i had thought everything could be alright
the rust overgrowth pushes on every night
plastic thunder chasing over lightning approach
my eyes stood open cuz they can never close
she says she's bested nature
but she will never go to space
i said that i was better
through a maw stuck on a liar's face
no words can explain it any further
keep it down, worst cage mirror match of the summer
i decide the reserves can wait
i don't think there's anything these words can save
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4. |
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and the stars
to the east
shine brighter than we could ever see
and so we
twinkle brightly
burning up ourselves eternally
swim in tin-foil oceans
beg the ground for some air
captive orbit set sail
turtled ship, rippled tear
i know the pressure range doesn't seem so fair
but i know that time will fold me like a chair
tempt blades as if they lack the luster to cut
my time is much too short, glowing remnants of us
and the stars
to the east
shine brighter than we could ever see
and so we
twinkle brightly
burning up ourselves eternally
"Matt; an unspecified beast."
"The beast lives in the belly of the mountain near Betws-y-Coed..."
"There is a mountain near there-- there's quite a lot of mountains near there."
"Tom with his big book of Welsh facts, there."
"I mean, I realize that I'm on shaky ground here based on previous form, but I've been to Betws-y-Coed!"
we build skyscrapers in hopes that they might impale god when he--
we build skyscrapers in hopes that we might impale god when he falls.
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5. |
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roadkill stares at me from the forest's corner
can't move fast enough to get warmer
recognize the form or the way it's been torn
steady, perfect lines all point to the storm
looking at the full moon, wondering why i'm not new
a photo returned from the water's surface, can't tell if it looks like you
inadequate portrayal of fur and bones, projected over few,
left to its own devices, becomes entirely see-through
where do my eyes go when i've got nothing to read?
where does my mind go when i've got no-one to be?
in a grandiose over-bearing cycle of oceans into seas
there's no drainage pipe to hole up in and defer to entropy
roadkill stares at me from the forest's corner
can't move fast enough to get warmer
recognize the form or the way it's been torn
steady, perfect lines all point to the storm
(i don't think i make it through this)
(pretend you're dead under the sheet)
...
i'm on the wrong side of the black hole
another soul without a vessel
it does the same thing every time,
so when it happens you should not be surprised.
(mercury is all that's left and mercury is all that's left.)
roadkill stares at me from the forest's corner
can't move fast enough to get warmer
recognize the form or the way it's been torn
steady, perfect lines all point to the storm
"Ooh, you have a lake! The lake isn't real. The lake is real! Are you kidding? They built the lake! But it's real, it's water!"
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6. |
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"The best thing that could happen would be if everything in the world were to stop. Do you know how to make that happen? Well, I know hundreds of ways to make it not happen!"
sulk in the depth of what's to come
white daisies blush from viscera in the bed
she'll run the words till i go numb
the music never changed the skies over our head
i watched the last thing i liked
get torn apart before my eyes
don't get used to low light, kid
they'll turn it up and do you in
i am another thing
that can have no feeling
so you have no regrets
bleeding me to death.
i'm caught up in it
keep the engine running
just need a minute
"rules are meant to be broken,
this is jazz."
three cheers to the frozen
fear the past
bury bones you thought better than yours
nobody loves the things they worship
these teeth saw at the roots
that bind slate floor to these boots...
(if there are other things
that can have a meaning
please just let me know
at least before i go)
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7. |
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Exterior, your place of work. The sun is set and its display has washed away but the stars are too dim to follow. Snow tumbles over pavement and the wind drives itself hypodermic. We have noticed each other from opposite ends of the empty parking lot. The air tastes of mercury.
We're motionless as we stare each other over, pulled from night's destructive backdrop by passing headlights. Any motor's hungry growls are drowned in the invisible riptides in our ears.
Neither of us are dressed for this weather. We stand like we're ready to move, to draw, to do something, anything. Neither will. We could -- but we won't.
We hold our weapons as steady as frost allows. You tighten your grip on an axe, infinitely reflective and drenched in ice. I, a pocket knife from which I scraped your name.
Your eyes taunt me, even across a tar ocean. I had thought your eyes were as I meant to shape mine: angry from afar but, on scrutiny, loving and defeated. We both felt that way. But I know if I could see yours through the powder, they would be empty now, and I know if I could see mine, they would be empty as well. I can't help it; at least I don't think I should.
Neither of us will act. The only animal electricity on the property is generated in our shiver.
I deserted you in a reckless act of self-definition the day I crystallized. As much as I am, I can't be you anymore.
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swamp_child New Jersey
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