swollen mudflap dreams
voice of sinew street
the
wooden flakes clap the wind
terra-cotta creaks muffle
choir kiss velvet thin in
empty mountain air, sinai drift
( peace be with you, peace be )
a long year here's to another
–
gotta visit the family in an hour
coffee and cake,
brother and i will argue 'bout politics
he runs some business, i've never worked in my life
he uses productivity to hide his loneliness
i use social grace to hide my emptiness
we probably understand each other perfectly
but will never steep to sympathy
–
big canary
best in school
sing your
lelujah for the gulls
break your wings in
crumbs and sandwich tins
burrow down to a
maize of glass
build a temple of sleet
and have a cry in it
–
bed lump, bed lump lump
lump
fight your frozen toes
last week a lily bush grew in our drain,
pools of **** and tissue clogged and sputtered out
the flowers were real pretty tho
–
it's like that feeling, you know, when you wonder, if you
left the gas cooker on, with the children still sleeping
an anxious terror overruns you, but you gotta get to work
too late to turn back now,
you can't just stop everything every \
time you realize how easy it would be to loose it all
so you keep on, determined resigned comfort
despite an unshakable certainty
it all burnt away long ago
–
go for a walk to calm
rolling cloud
valley glut
last light's wet custard haze
a solitary bird tries to mate with its echo
branches tear
cut weave through silence
effervescent haze
the
dust road hill the valley fall the blur below
i dreamt last night an old crush held me
and pulled my teeth out one by one
i really miss her
–
and so you lie, there, thin cotton down, gunked up on the drip,
i read you a story,
you don't want me to
tired and disorientated, falling into sleep, among the
bleeps and light, smell of alcohol and saccharine
you can't handle the leech of words right now,
but you insist i continue anyway.
i need this, i
to prove i was there by your side,
for your sake,
and you are too polite to refuse me this narcissism,
too scared to shatter it all
and turn away at the last
–
oh, hey! sorry i haven't
yeah
yeah no,
it's been years, hasn't it?
i- i know i know, i was the one who insisted-
and then never made the effort
what's up?
uh, nothing new, really
still haven't fixed the wiring
still just
flickering
anxious feeling
ambling along a
longing
that paradoxical redemption, that
impossible unity
of innocence and forgiveness
…
yeah, no,
nah
–
and so you float up, out of the vents, above the roof
into the clouds, the rain sets in, oh - the
drier's broken, you can't afford to get these clothes wet - but
the pattering feels good on your blistering skin
so you drift
melt
and
far below
you
hear
the bell's pale ring
sunday murmur bubble and gather
muffle ***** wring shoelace voices
river wiped bored communal toes
mudfleck shoes and patchwork rags
a turn, another, then,
worn timber creak
the church doors open
