1. |
Collapsing Eyelids
01:41
|
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2. |
Baiting the Undertow
07:01
|
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My morning pills sparkle in my palm, like the teeth of a game show host God
I see his face coagulate in the swirls of my Altretamine vomit
I can’t swallow and I can’t walk
But I know he’s gonna save know he’s gonna save me
Baiting
The undertow
Faithful
In where it ebbs and it flows
Crashing
And crushing
The mighty
Everything but me
Baiting
The undertow
Trusting
In who it takes or lifeboats
Crashing
And crushing
The mighty
Washing me out to sea
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3. |
Trail of the Onyx Cairn
05:07
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You return to the peaks
Of the face-shaped mountain
It was blasted by depth charge
On the day of your birth
They quarried for rubies
But found only echoes
And felt only echoes
You were never here in the first place
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4. |
||||
Dribbling faces
Tracing the winter hair
Growing like jaundice
In place of the harvest
Impatience
Is a virtue
Keep driving that hearse
Into the swamp
A scalding red
Final sunset
Trembles through a palsied eye
What you are now we used to be
What we are now you will be
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5. |
Bhoot
04:58
|
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I know
I saw what you did
We have feasts in your dreams
Clink glasses to your sleaze
I’m in your skeleton
When you were just a sprout
Breaking into that house
I was there
When you pinned her down
Fumbling at her prom gown
I grinned and stared
When you choke-held your son
For stashing pages from Drum
I was everywhere
I can be anywhere
But
I’m in your skeleton
|
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6. |
I'll Cherish Your Skull
03:59
|
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7. |
||||
Three-thousand eight-hundred sixty-nine weeks down.
Only one more to go
Save your bedside breath for the battleaxe and for the plough
They tell me my ears will be the last thing to go
But they slid from my head into space so many years ago
On week one-thousand six-hundred and four
I carried you past a crabshell-laced ocean floor
Their chitin shattered windshields
Battered my feet like chemotherapy
The next time you see me it will be my first week
The next time you hear me I’ll be a grosbeak
My threnody to blot out the dawn jay when she sings
Please don’t wretch as my bones hollow out into wings
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8. |
Pishacha
06:00
|
|||
You have new skin tags, but otherwise, Ted
You’re in fine fettle for 12-plus years dead
Pull up a chair and a hammered bronze platter
There are charred burgers and spoiled creamed corn for that matter
Tell me where you’ve been and what you have seen
Is it like Milton or more Tarkovsky?
And the women there. Would they laugh when they see me dance?
And tell me, do you still denigrate them with each and every chance?
You’re not Ted
Flaccid folds for eyes
You’re not Ted
Teeth are clumps of wet flies
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9. |
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This Ginger Ale is going to save my life
I’m just kidding
I know it’s over
I’d bequeath you my rust-rashed Saab 99
Leaking fluids
But I know it’s over
Step aside please, it’s tracheotomy time
Slow wave goodbye
You know it’s over
They can wheel me away
They can will me away
They can eat me away
|
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10. |
Nothing in the Dark
08:25
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