1. |
cockatiel
02:47
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|
I think I meant to piss you off
When I said your eyes were shut
loyalty my tannic cup
easy to refill
I spent morning baking things
eggy bread to cut my teeth
all night cleaning up--
is a cockatiel company?
I should sell this pre-calc book
but what if i need it?
time to give away my stuff
when i don't even see it
i've been watching bad tv
and eating chocolate sauce
body is a fist in sleep
on the blanket top
that boy at market's much too cute
i will never talk
playing checkers games with cherries
on a molded fiber box
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2. |
lady ouija
02:59
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|
woe that lady ouija should pass on my watch
27 souls plus 5
a bumblebee sting should not hurt this much
shepherding the dead into the hive
woe that a rabbit should scream before it dies
then drip quiet from a throat cut
woe to the waste of soft fur coats
bloodied in a pail of guts
woe to be horny and woe to be lost
pinching at the skin around the waist
woe to simultaneously care, and not,
what somebody thinks about my face
woe to the compost pile that's made of meat
cheers to the beetles in the dirt
woe to the creatures with bugging eyes,
those infant ghosts that haunt around the yurt
woe to the story that I wished I'd tell
woe to the lines that I can't breathe
I'll roll them up and load them like magazine shells
and shoot all of the rounds into my feet
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3. |
if you kid up
03:28
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|
we light candles to play with wax
suckle water from the dripping tap
if you kid up
i chewed the whites off of my fingernails
under the blanket i am polar bear
if you kid up
you're the honey hidden way up
i'm a hot drink in a freezing cup
if you kid up
if i fuck it up
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4. |
cambium rag / immolate
03:25
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I don't climb more than ten feet up
on a ladder or a juggy wall
I am deaf with the sound, like a pocket of change,
that your bones made when you fell
if I don't fill up my bone dry jug
with water from the echoing well
I'll be ten feet round and cracking my heels
to the drum and brazen bell
here come you, here come
chewing on the cambium rag
here come you
Immolate, immolate, immolate
(I am I am / the sound)
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5. |
guts to have
02:53
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|
could never get it back
but it's what you gotta want
could never get it back
it takes guts to have a cunt
better that my body knew
drive me one-hand-stick
I think I
think I'd
throw up my heart
to swallow your dick
could never get it back
but it's what you gotta want
could never get it back
it takes guts to have
bitter that my body knew
drive me one-hand-stick
I think I
think I'd
throw up my heart to swallow your
it was how to feel
when I
shred up orange peels
and won't share eyes
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6. |
oweownuse
02:15
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|
even if the dog had stayed between
I would have got no sleep
II would warm your cold feet
you would have me see
that I'm guilty of three:
to owe, to own, to use
but that's between me
and my alchemist's body
mordant to the fiber
we stained and we bleached
I perspire and conspire
for your mouth and your teeth
but I'm guilty of three:
to owe, to own to use
but that's between me
and my alchemist's body
in chlorinated sunscreen
balmed and embalmed
deciding if a veil falls away
or a drawstring draws
guilty of three:
to owe, to own, to use
but that's between me
and my alchemist's body
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7. |
cardamom man
03:32
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thundering down
cardamom man
my intentions turned black
as the lamb
I pulled you over the rocks by the rope of your long brown hair
I pulled you over to talk by the rope of your long brown hair
silly to roll
harlequin doe
you were locked and load
to my whole
I drew you sitting on your backpack in the parking lot
I drew you, grated knuckles sticky through the powdered chalk
I drew you, your navel at the center of cul-de-sac
I drew you over the rocks by the rope of your long brown hair
hot plastic phone between my jaw and collar, jaw and collar,
what would it take for you to nut up and call her? Up and call her!
[layered:]
I pulled you over the rocks by the rope of your long brown hair
I pulled you over to talk by the rope of your long brown hair
thundering down cardamom man
my intentions turned black as the lamb
silly to roll, harlequin doe
you were locked and load to my whole
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8. |
lonesome taste better
03:16
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I see the sweat on your forehead, darling
I felt the shake of your hand
let me into your kitchen, darling
don't you cry them salt tears in your bread
put down the mixing spoon, honey
and step away from the counter
we're gonna make it together, honey
I bet we can make lonesome taste better
it's heavy as a full tank of propane, darling
because I'm hot as an oven in your arms
well, I bought back my thoughts with some poisons,
and I'm done wishing I could cause you harm
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Sara Hensel Portland, Oregon
i play stuff and sing stuff and i like dogs
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