1. |
Noises of Clutch
04:45
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The Days to Dismember:
Remember the days,
passing notes like leaves all a‘plummet.
String together your memories
into cylindricals - sharpen
the edge to a point of interaction.
What we have
suspended in asperity,
Noises of clutch,
our ears bound with rakish.
Cover them, your hands
tremulous cool,
and hark
with mansuetude.
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2. |
Earth's Astute Elbows
18:08
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The Lows; The Sows:
The hums you don’t hear sews
holes sweating tears of joy no,
infirmity the blazed days in my nervous system
seeping purple purges bruises stretch distributing machinations,
mini-moons,
sows voids allotted seeds for clovers but blankets of Alyssums,
or SNOW cannevertell,
are natal and intense,
white grasses cool my body and I’m calm,
while everyone sweats,
heats heaps of grumbles and I stare out
at something
moving so fast it’s suspend & still,
waiting suspense,
always waiting, patiently……………
while the beats of birds’ wingy waft,
percolating swells of truths,
spells h-o-p-e-s,
and inevitable tiny deaths singing,
O, you birds:
“You’ll miss me when I’m gone………… … …..................... . . . . ……… . . . ….”
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3. |
|
|||
|
The Lows; The Sows:
The hums you don’t hear sews
holes sweating tears of joy no,
infirmity the blazed days in my nervous system
seeping purple purges bruises stretch distributing machinations,
mini-moons,
sows voids allotted seeds for clovers but blankets of Alyssums,
or SNOW cannevertell,
are natal and intense,
white grasses cool my body and I’m calm,
while everyone sweats,
heats heaps of grumbles and I stare out
at something
moving so fast it’s suspend & still,
waiting suspense,
always waiting, patiently……………
while the beats of birds’ wingy waft,
percolating swells of truths,
spells h-o-p-e-s,
and inevitable tiny deaths singing,
O, you birds:
“You’ll miss me when I’m gone………… … …..................... . . . . ……… . . . ….”
|
||||
4. |
Bird Spirituals
18:55
|
|
||
|
The Days to Dismember:
Remember the days,
passing notes like leaves all a‘plummet.
String together your memories
into cylindricals - sharpen
the edge to a point of interaction.
What we have
suspended in asperity,
Noises of clutch,
our ears bound with rakish.
Cover them, your hands
tremulous cool,
and hark
with mansuetude.
|
||||
Chubby Wolf Huntington Beach, California
Chubby Wolf was Danielle Baquet (1982-2009).
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