1. |
||||
looking across a timid sea
you could look in between
& see:
a beast of undoing
oblivious to it's ruin,
priming an engine of wind
along a spindle of instinct
fixed
so still
in a mess
of motive
shifting weight
to capsize
into a sea of
piss
stretching ropes
to stir the harbored
every dimension
sinks the anchored
cross your look at the meaning
and you could see the teething:
a cloth
of variable
dimensions of domination
enshroud in myth,
blinders tailored to fit
swinging fists at darkness & light
this must be at times
what we look like
|
||||
2. |
Small Wonder
01:33
|
|||
an aerosol can
blooms promises,
weaponised spam
& coke-jobbed advertisements
who needs branded liberty
when desire trades for cheap?
our cracked skulls
caressing pliers,
industrialized to suckall
& still fuckwant
we take to the torture
like rivets to girders.
[this lonely robot fixed from parts off the shelf,
in a somnambulist's loop of self actualization,
between love & madness,
a science for a better life,
it keeps going & going
& going....]
the mind is cursed.
state tv knows
how to make it explode,
here it goes!
neural roads,
street signals,
amusingly
trafficless
|
||||
3. |
||||
...so let the dust settle on a dead look,
kill the demons our shoulders hooked,
it's a shelved book
concertina wire on a picket fence,
trading gifts we steal from ourselves,
i'll live for something else
every other breath burns as a torch,
unraveling a premise at intersection of unpaved roads.
every other breath charts a course
from an atlas of stars, a fireproof heart distanced from dead cold
-
the intrinsic forbidden
our paralysis forgiven
desire's remission
the heaviest nothing
it's needed
a starting point
a waking gasp
choke of life
lived as expressions
loved as intention
art is intervention
-
every other breath burns as a torch,
unraveling a premise at intersection of unpaved roads.
every other breath charts a course
from an atlas of stars, a fireproof heart distanced from dead cold
swimming in synesthetic lust,
to taste in a blush of trust
the liberties we owe us,
a compass rose in every touch
|
||||
4. |
Rainbows are brutal
01:09
|
|||
i rain on your city.
down here, it sits so still.
first the sight of a mirage
then a surge of ocean,
perched above the aquarium
below the sky ripped open
days found you a canary
in a peacock suit,
winged with heavy charity
and a submerged truth
the foundations fold into
ourselves
as polite hands do
wash down the broken teeth
past reengineered throats,
washed away all but spires
that now mark the shallows flows
& what u + i could always have known
a facade divorcing the frame
a lawn unpainted green
the lights burning a last second
under water, yet we still breathe
|
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