1. |
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I guess I should be happy that no one sees the darkness
that I always see her eyes above her electric lips
and I see him above her so I know she is protected
from everyone else but my two twisting heads
She’s blessed and I know it and I swear that it exists
even if I have to take it and twist it so it fits
even when contorted on the floor of the hall
it will never stop breathing and repeating, never stall
Hear the mania of brass and the silence of heaven
that refuses to speak up from the depths of the heroin
it must be lonely and empty and dead
but it never lived for no one no matter what they said
Now I can’t think, I’ll listen to the echos
of the organs in the theater, flocks of pigeons swirling halos
the air is thick, I pray for a breeze
slip into a trance over on third street
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2. |
The Lights
07:21
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Silver plane fly like a crucifix in the sky
red lights blink on the edge of the night
the big sun drowned by the murmured iron sound
and the bright shaking beads all shooting around
all the pale alters when the street lights falter
and the houses are dark and I wish that I’d called her
smokestacks let the clouds rise above the jets
that land over the skyline, my dues, my soul’s debts
That old loving friend, illuminated all the loose ends
take up her spike now to start to mend
build something warm that won’t fall in the storm
that wont burn up in daylight, that i’ll never mourn
that could hide under dust and shine through the rust
and be weathered and battered through life and through lust
smoke pours out of her cigarette sweetly
she lives on the line that shines down to the peach tree
My mind was young when all this begun
I cant say that I’ve felt all the things that I’ve sung
the flutter of red when the radio stutters
and the air is warm and the air conditioner shudders
but now the sun rise with the pink clouds in the sky
up near the tree tops ill shed my disguise
this peace i feel now released somehow
I sit shaking as I break apart and break my vows
White lines bleed gold as the evening grows old
and she looks at me now with the smile I stole
those lines, the traces of planes bound other places
send me yellow edged images of beautiful faces
the digital clock that howls in the dark
grows dimmer and dies as the dogs start to bark
this thing alive now, all I ever had
in the best way I know it’s driving me mad
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3. |
Constellations
02:33
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The constellations, those shimmering points
the flames, mad, licking and crying, they anoint
my old dream, my favorite one
leaning out my window after the sun
I wish saint peter’d do more for me
steer my soul, control my heartbeat
Constellations
She exhales and clouds glow, block out the light
it blurs and it's smokey and clouds up her eyes
I thought they’d swirl like galaxies
but my poetry was wrong, if what I see
is right, my love turned smoke and vapor
dreamed in heat and planned on paper
Constellations
The attics of the dusty dull animal kingdom
that they put in plastic boxes whenever you’re done with them
smell so frayed, like all of those days
and I can’t save them, shelter them from the haze
of this new life, of these new feelings
corrupting my soul as I stare at the ceiling
Constellations
A day on earth is more than I can take
in the summer in the city under suns, no escape
from the ambient light and the coughs of the cars
all it does is burn together burning, fallen stars
thats all we are, disconnected beams
shining through these hasty seams
Constellations
The breathing swells of humid air
curl gently round her charcoal hair
in the exhaust the weather extracts, when nothing is intact
the boiling buildings coming under attack
from every ray, from every sun
like us all, how this all happens
Constellations
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4. |
Explosions
07:17
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Disaster come upon me
Disaster in my home
Entrancing shadows dance before
Empty pianos
All these satellites
That glide through my past
Reflect rays from other days
And other suns that didn’t last
Explosions
Explosions
Explosions
Explosions, convulsions
At your tattered feeling
Explosions between two
Send me careening
See now my darkness
And all in silence
I didn’t mean to make
This distance so violent
Explosions
Explosions
Explosions
Her frame, alight
with flames from behind
these animals over
and over again, all the time
This space that grows
In my chest, this cavity
pale grasping ruin
that black empty part of me
Explosions
Explosions, in the city, in plain sight
Explosions, in the city, of all these lights
Explosions, in the city, in the radiating night
Explosions, in the city, bleeding fists full of fight
Explosions, in the city, above my skull, sweet and bright
Oh, my city, Oh, my city, console me
Oh, my city, Oh, my city, let me see you
black and white car alarm siren song
glow all beating colors of the city’s neon
ghosts of the young and broken flower
hang from fire escapes and signs and rhythms, water towers, aching
southern hotels, jersey city, don’t forget your keys
for reconciliation, down on my knees
I know a place I can’t take you but its not to far
over dunes and on highways under that bright north star
we’d be back before the cold with the dead leaves swinging
but for now the air is warm and all the bells are ringing
in my ears, in my chest, from all this distortion
putting me to rest like a sonic abortion
by the time I’m gonna know just what I’m hearing
my body will be gone in a plain pine coffin
that the earth has taken back and hidden in her pocket
next to the eras and the doll and the bombs in her locket
but who needs eternity when we have reason
who needs the sickly sweet breezes of the garden of eden
It’s only explosions the world has ever known
We’re gonna knockdown all our smokestacks and knock us off our throne
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5. |
Mother Teresa
03:56
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It's alright in the vacuum
in my swollen head
I saw it spin around my lightbulb
till I picked it up and said
that there’re some beads upon your breast
and there’re some thoughts around your teeth
Mother Theresa’s in the corner
and her eyes are full of grief
her skin is wax and sand and
her hair’s in knotted strands
she was born of broken paper
and prayer cards and hands
that’ll type up your horoscope,
her stars are in the sky
and her shoes are not yet filthy
cause she keeps them clean to die
Don’t let the good lord into your home
he’s gonna knock down all your friends
and leave you all alone
in your skeleton construction
your eyes are gonna glisten
as speakers blast static from hissing televisions
Jesus christ listens to the radio
transmission tower beacons light the way to go
and those little blinks you hear
they’re sure as hell not real
they drive freaks to salvation
schizophrenia and feel
the skin over bones and the
vessels of blood
that carry cries to her brain
how she stains wilted buds
and she flows over banks
onto dark broken streets
by the railroad refineries
I hear when i sleep
the industries dead there
all they got left
is some third degree murder
and some misdemeanor theft
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6. |
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This everlasting city, it saved my soul
arcing cranes, the octane, broken window panes, the rock and roll
I leaned on the shutters and breathed in that heat
that june july august when it’s too hot to sleep
just let the sweat drip, lie in your bed
keep that phonograph spinning, keep that needle fed
cause when that stops, the clouds break, ripple into rain
that beat on her eyelashes that beat on my brain
and when that starts up, you can’t just take a pill
let the headache overtake you, and in time it will
you’ll either die on the sidewalk, your breaths to be ending
or live in a promised land with a promise pending
when the sun sets down where the sheets are torn
and the living rooms deserted, identity is born
It really turns me off to listen to the train
screaming ninety degrees ready to faint
O the black bolts and iron, the skyway’s like a gun
rusting and loaded, how these kids run
o’er the sea of cryin eyes I see from my window
but for when the day dies and the storm clouds billow
a broken flow of headlights endlessly cross
I’ll stay till she falls and I’ll leave when she’s lost
keep etching on asphalt, ideas and creeds
place a bullet in their engines and kill all their speed
the comet like voices that swirl through my room
the spinning tops and bears that fall ripe from the loom
and tapes spin too, cassettes playing memories
graffiti tattooed on my mind’s cemeteries
her eyes burn like two red lights, they are two red lights on the towers
that I’ve starred at for all those morning hours
before the drunken exodus the birdcall awakens
when the silent night’s peace is screamed at and shaken
when the dawn bleeds life from the degenerates’ ball
and the reverb is alive and hushes over all
the tall trees rustle dressed in full summer leaves
the chimes from neighbor’s porch sound in the breeze
that’s when skin is warm and pressed
to the nearest living thing or whatever else’s left
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7. |
Mother Mary
04:43
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Spinning white flashes
lets darlings glimpse
on burning horizons
and hills under painted bricks
and light that falls
at incredible speeds
and pain to break spines
and bring down to knees
just turn yourself on and move
fingers on wooden beads
on an infinite circle
string on a rosary
Each small prayer muttered
through holes in black space
and tongues twisted and choking
how full of grace
down railings and stairs
bushes with white flowers sway
by bruised purple tulips
after sun, after day
the garden she sewed
with softness and love
the blessed rose chrysalis
the color of blood
All these unfurl
in the shattered cement womb
under shadows of high-rises
to feel like tomb
my soul’s companion
breathing can be hard
lungs will not heave
under death’s black star
drifting directions
simple bright lines
will take you away
take gently your time
For you, I am all open
in nighttime and day
from my first crying breath
to the stone on my grave
from my first steady stair
to my soul’s darkest place
Mother mary, bless her
feel love’s embrace
in years to come
she’ll rearrange, good earth
and live again here
through other birth
The veins on her hands
and the bruises on her shins
I don't regret that I've lived in her tree-trunk eyes
And I don't think it's true
That I can lift these chains
Cause I'll always see pictures of your...
Your iodine skin
Your iodine skin....
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8. |
Bruise
02:21
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The veins on her hands and bruises on her shins
no I don’t regret that I’ve lived in her tree-trunk eyes
but you couldn’t say it cause the roots ran deep
drawing the traces that fell through your
Your iodine skin
your iodine skin
your iodine skin
your iodine skin
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9. |
Untitled
05:41
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O night of glass,
the dawn's gonna shatter
the moon is spinning by
cicada chatter
the song they sing
says I want something sweet
paint you blue
paint you on my sheets
just let the train
and the music box
and the boy in the picture
let yourself rock
go off gentle
I’m so sorry
I’m so simple now
I want something sweet
these old lights
I am possessed
why don’t most people
get more obsessed
with all the lights
all around
sure I’m a moth
sure I am a clown
sure all these sounds
are all I hear
go down the boulevard
where things disappear
lame poets limp
past jaded mirrors
my broken eyes
go flashing by
It brings me down
to think of you, when
the empire state building
is glowing blue
and the clouds breaks
and the rain rolls
and the streets are sinking
into grey holes
all this warmth
all from afar
my fingers curl
at my stars
seems around here
I can’t find
anything alive
to waste my time
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Perennial Reel Jersey City, New Jersey
Born of long hot neighborhood summers, of windows, of long hot summer nights
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