1. |
Krishnaagain
03:03
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i'm ready for the four arms reaching for my forehead. i'm ready for yr blessing, man; forget the testing and the bloodshed.
"hare"'s hardly getting through to me; "hare"'s hardly getting through to you.
can't you see my hurt? my glasses are covered copper with vrindavan dirt, i'm sweating through my shelter shirt, and my skin's still burnt.
"hare"'s hardly getting through to me; "hare"'s hardly getting through to you.
and i know you said that i've so many lives to try, but i'm ready for the fireworks tonight - i swear to god this time.
krishna, this time please give me everything christ would not give me. krishna, this time please give me everything christ would not give me. krishna, this time please give me everything christ would not give me. krishna, this time please give me everything christ would not give me.
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2. |
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3. |
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deep breaths for walking and deep breaths for breathing and deep breaths while talking that stop any speaking. deep breaths he hopes has no meaning. a deep breath before she runs her head under water. deep breaths that he can't tell if she's releasing.
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4. |
Prescription Drugs
03:35
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when i see you call, it's like church bells ringing, and i get frightened just thinking of the highs from which i could fall. my head is so lead, but i'd try to change for you.
when i looked up from the laptop, it's like the beauty's too much; and, in mid-thought, watching a leaf fall, i'm falling for you. do you want to see my bedroom?
when i fall asleep away from yr rough, blue bed, i wake up with these weak wrists and colors less vivid, and i'm too dumb to read and too sleepless to snore. where were you when the prescription filled me? i was tight-necked on tenth ave, mouth dry with anxiety, and i was some privileged-kind of bored - stealing fruit from grocery stores.
when the two a.m. screamings comes out to haunt me in midday october, do you feel resentment or pity? you said, "take two of these to keep the color in yr teeth."
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5. |
Katherine Drone
01:08
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6. |
Donnellan, Sam's Tape
05:01
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i don't believe that dreams hold some higher meaning, but i dreamt of knifes at my throat, and before my neck was cut yr words woke me up. you said "put on yr winter coat." you said, "forget the common people; forget yr parent's church. tonight i'm stripping like birch." i ran to yr house, and when you came out, you wearing one of his old shirts.
the fading lights that flicker on the side streets where i asked you to meet only creep me out now. distant songs coming from some old tape that some older guy made you - why would you keep that around?
i'm throwing out dried pens. i pulled the sheets off my bed. i'm sleeping 'til three again. one minute you call, and then it's kerouac-dead, and i don't know on whom to depend. now you know that i'm more than jealous; i'm straight possessive. i'm counting the breaths you take. i hope that you hear him - all the dumb things he says - and know he's just some mistake, but you keep listening to his tape.
the fading lights that flicker on the side streets where i asked you to meet me only creep me out now. distant talk (but only getting closer) seems to speak against the trees. i'm going to cut them all down.
when you'd play the "waiting room," i saw the way yr eyes would bloom, and i'm a patient boy, but i don't want to have to wait for you. i want to feel you run into my arms. i want to touch yr open skin and whisper onto yr neck like he did. then you would hear me, but you don't hear me. you keep listening to his tape.
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7. |
Limited Jest
01:07
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it's high noon and midnight at once for the first time in the centuries that lead up to the end of all mankind: one boy is cracked open to reveal the moment when records ain't cool no more. the thick glasses melt all the flesh from the faces; the skinny jeans furcate the crowd at the waists; and everyone left at the shallow grave of a show all just agree to just go home.
i open my hands to reach for the neck of the child who unleashed this torrent. i open my mouth to speak - the words are abundant and purely abhorrent. limited jest and t.v. talk - from afar, i watch foundations fall apart, and it wasn't much, but now where do i start?
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8. |
Giant People
05:15
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on the last days, god's voice bellowed in my ear. he said, "boy there's no need to scream." through my sacrifices, sin lurks in the near, though the ground is tilled, and the hands are dinner-clean. though i perceived nothing different, my once blue eyes are green, and i'm overcome by a not-so fleeting feeling: it takes root in my veins; it blossoms through my skin; it breaks my bones and molds me and leaves me bleeding.
there was a mourning dove in my chest that sang a simple song, but as i slept, i must have crushed its neck, because i don't hear its music anymore. the melodies have left and have been replaced by angry, baited breath. though i perceived nothing different - it's every basement show i've seen collected and condensed until minute - i won't repent a thing. i will let scars mark my face, so may tinnitus take me long before i take you.
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