Lyrics

In pumice we trust. Each night we come spackled with iodine and feeding tube formula. Counting hours until new microbes. Give gauze. You beaut.


I hadn’t slept in two days, but the acid was finally almost out of me, I was on my knees building an addition to the garage of the fur-trader descendant, every drywall screw felt like a jolt, I saw them enter, splintering into my teeth, it felt truer than anything, then when Stefan came down to check on me, he said I hadn’t been plastering at all, just writing and re-writing on the outer wall that passage from Céline where he says that the humble loathe the great, meanwhile the great are just searching for someone upon whom to loose their sadism.


. . . so you learn
That the terminus of ambition is herakles
comes to put a spear through your chest
And there’s always rain
Always a street named independence
Always a tumour in the anatomy of a whale
Always someone selling a line about dying nobly in the woods
But this damned soot
Sits like an heirloom on a worn neck
Leaving us here
To chew honeysuckle
Until there is nothing left of the heart