1. |
Horizon
03:33
|
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you don't have to close the door
on what you've built around me
the way your hand grips
the ribcage, the baluster
your industrious
finger under shoulder blade
the pullbar slips
the tongue into groove
the back. the joist. the hot horizon.
the back. a wall plumbed. hot sun rising.
to feel this way
about anyone.
to feel this way
about you.
a diligent shoulder
wrenched by the fear
of losing years
of hard labor.
the back. the joist. the hot horizon.
the back. a wall plumbed. hot sun rising.
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2. |
Wild Horses
03:20
|
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you were uneasy
with the way the prairies leaned into the evenings.
and i had to rock you all night
and tell you everything would be alright.
when we saw the wild horses
you were inconsolable.
oh what unholiness, to rush toward your impermanence.
oh what bliss, to run like this.
you were uneasy
with the way the prairies leaned into the evenings.
and i had to rock you all night
and tell you everything would be alright
while my heart raced wildly
toward nothing.
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3. |
Work
02:55
|
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they're after us
one by one.
they're after us.
let them in.
and a life to make a living
isn't living it's just giving
and giving to nothing at all.
i'm just killing time
forgive me, Eternity,
i've got a few things on my mind.
let them in.
and how can i feel you
when i can't even feel
my own goddamn hands?
when i try to stop moving
i'm caught up in the tide
gasping, wrestling with the sand.
let them in.
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4. |
Not Even The Moon
04:22
|
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nothing ever comes out right,
not even the moon.
when i call to you and you don't answer,
why do i bother?
when nothing ever comes out right,
not even the moon.
is it some particular bone?
or a stain? or an omen?
it's the moon, Alex.
go to bed.
but how can i sleep when the picnic's just begun?
flowers are stinging the bees, an old woman
is gnawing on her hands again.
nothing ever comes out right,
not even the moon.
not even the breeze in the poplar trees,
blood in the garlic, breeze in the poplars,
these things unsaid.
nothing ever comes out right,
not even the moon.
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5. |
Tilt
03:15
|
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oh how the time moves
slowly on the lazy
afternoons we're dizzy.
picking flowers for our friends.
some roses for you --
speak the language.
some rue for you
and some for me, too.
save some, save some
for Ophelia.
who do you think you are
bathing yourself in river
water? save some
for Ophelia.
oh how the time moves
on the lazy afternoons.
we're joyful, dizzy.
we are joyful, dizzy
like a tilt-a-whirl.
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6. |
Body Heat
03:29
|
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I'm tired
of trying
to convince myself
I'm anything
more interesting
than body heat.
Heat lightning.
The tragedies
in the birdbath,
and the moonlight,
the moonlight,
the moonlight.
It's so boring.
Heat lightning.
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7. |
Guilt
02:59
|
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Oh how guilt floats
belly-up
like a dead fish.
And warm,
its belly
spills in my hand.
But we don't have a word for this.
We all come in swimming.
And we all go on swimming.
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8. |
Eurydice
04:35
|
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it was here, in summer,
when the grass was still grass,
before the fawns could hear
the dark hum of death.
my feet consumed
by the writhing evils
that pierce the sole
and sieze the bone.
every night it's a deadly fever
and if i am taken like eurydice,
if you can't pull me from this hell,
you'll have to drag the death out of me.
it was here in summer,
when the grass was still grass,
before the moan
of the meadow inverted.
every night it's a deadly fever
and if i am taken like eurydice,
if you can't pull me from this hell,
you'll have to drag the death out of me.
walk with your back to me.
don't turn around, i'm eurydice.
if you can't cure me of this fever
you'll have to drag the death out of me.
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9. |
Matador
03:28
|
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It's not the red.
I can't see it.
All I see is you.
All I've ever seen is you.
Since that day by the river
when you hooked me like a trout
and then gutted me
and my wet heart spilled out.
Oh, how we dance this cruel dance!
My shoulders lanced
by your barbed affection.
Horns knocking around
in every direction.
All my ardor and your cruelty
waltz together dutifully.
So why now do you hesitate
while I wheeze and bray?
Why now do you stay?
What's the matter, matador?
What's the matter, my sweet matador?
Finish me. So I can get some sleep.
Finish me. Finish me.
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10. |
Sediment
03:07
|
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You came here as sediment.
So settle down, settle down.
You can't stop the rain from dragging the current astray.
|
tooth ache. Burlington, Vermont
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Burlington/Brooklyn.
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