1. |
o,
01:36
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2. |
i have no angel
04:10
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3. |
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4. |
renunciation
02:55
|
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5. |
receive you
07:51
|
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6. |
||||
7. |
a fracture?
05:57
|
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8. |
||||
|
Everything was blindingly bright, the ice settled on the trees in a magnetizing charm, lit behind from the sun, sending cascading prisms of white light laid out in a lattice of rainbows, each one forgotten by the last. A dear friend and I went on a walk. I had been at my new aquaintance's overnight, in some verbal puzzle and laid up by the storm and outages, freed from work, shamelessly, and from school- a failure- and the woes of the house financial, but still seeking, but thinking also in a slowness that still transcended platitude, of just being, and working, and music,looking out for that place where the river tide settles, as I yearningly seek the top of the hill for the bend of the Hudson River view, but as if from some lighthouse, or the moored boat set sail in ice, or just the fractures of the ice across the deep navy dream of the water, sometimes achingly black- yes, surrender I could accept, and absolute abnegation, itself a thought forward as if the world.
|
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9. |
is the body still
07:09
|
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10. |
||||
|
i only meant disappear like that last wane of the moon
a moment to forget her a blessing to reappear, or not;
it is painful to look (at you) and likely will be more so by the day
i am always running towards the loss it has been undoing
and salvation: i liked to emerge from the cabin in the wood
after three days of mourning her that she was there
and to walk blindly upon the road thinking ‘what is a home? what is?’
there was none as the stranger dons a coat looking toward horizon however unwilling
let me treasure the loss too, but more than any happy destruction
i want you to be well so i say ‘i am here’ though in fact a body in the dark
beyond that insoluble,
(and unconscionable and all the rest, do not console me)
i know i am being difficult so here are my apologies riding upon no firm explanation
but the table and the hour and the spoon in the corner
but the tea and the bread and whatever. the
last car ride with grandmother her presence by then nearly floating upon the
setting sun i haven’t yet listened to the recording. give me a few more years.
we will all ride into the grave so victorious. i want to know
you but here is the utter truth (as gathers a march storm and into april passes
a dream of flowers perhaps or at least something to fall from the tree?)
me no one would gather, no, not here in the garden, some things were
to fall and fall. mindless, we are exposed
perhaps as the vast beings we are. i want to touch the end for i am made of it.
i want to see the fool and far. i would go away if it made you feel all yourself
or i might even stay and there is nothing so heartbreaking-
which and where is the kinder distance? to hold you when
you are inexpressible to me, or to leave you be dreaming of the fine view
out there in the beyond you might see i have no shelter, nor reason
like a figure that cannot be made out upon the shore.
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11. |
in death
03:07
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12. |
something there
05:56
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Drongo Tapes Seattle, Washington
independent cassette label. hazy, worn, empty. limited run handmade tapes
all tapes $4-7 with discount code 'slidingscale'
demos and contact:
drongotapes@gmail.com
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