1. |
Steam
04:52
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Steam
Holding
keeps all the heat
from flowing.
Cold feet
entangle in sheets
are lonely.
You left,
I was ensnared in a dream
of our sweat.
And I leapt
into the sound of pattering
and heat.
I leave my glasses on.
I let the lenses fog up.
I can’t see her through the haze.
Steam is crawling along the ceiling.
But at least she thinks I’m looking,
‘cause looking makes my lust feel real.
And if I were suddenly struck with blindness,
Don’t worry, I still feel.
Lovely
lullabies of eyes,
comely.
Are lovesome,
but lacking what we need
to become.
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2. |
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Yellow Daisies & Dusty Brains
Sobering
in this teetering hammock
in a stand of red pines.
And their scents are mixed with suntan lotion’s
that you helped me to apply.
If not for you,.
If not for you my skin would peel off.
It would peel off.
Brimming,
outside once was.
Now it’s clearly dimming,
else I’ve lost my mind.
Let’s climb these trees,
I hope I see you.
No! I know I’ll see you
at the top.
Waving at me clearly.
Waving at me dearly, clearly.
And if there’s nothing left,
God damn right!
We made the best of this life.
If the world is gone,
our matter simply shifting on,
I’ll trust my soul to retain
the memories of your eyes like yellow daisies.
The rest is crumbling.
I hear some of the best of us grumbling,
“Where did my time go?”
But we know.
We’re just a couple of dusty brains,
floatin’ in tandem, out in outer space.
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3. |
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Metal Minds and Mental Lines
Have you noticed that the lowest
of the lowest of the low
are prone to moan and grow their woe?
Puny minds inside, this finite kind,
they don't know what is right
behind their tiny binded eyes.
Our world was blessed, but some divested
then they wept inside their shells.
Their selves the sole possession kept.
I took the power offered,
awful though I knew it oft could be
for this lesser intellect.
I slaked my thirst for all this endlessness
on thoughts from every time
and every mind that ever was.
Mixed Technology with Biology,
I made them metal minds,
they would not break through mental lines.
They were but lonely animals.
Crawling to their deaths!
When this notion struck my head.
To meld machine with flesh!
I rose them up, I plugged them in
to make them one
With me their God!
But do they grovel for this debt?
No! They're just calling for my death.
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4. |
Fear of Mice
04:32
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Fear of Mice
Little teeth
little jaws
little holes
gnawed discreetly in walls.
Buckwheat and rice
morsels taste nice.
I snapped them
they nibbled their last bites
they died.
But why can’t I sleep?
They’ve been gone for years now,
and darling you’ve tried
to dig out my knots,
scratch out these thoughts,
switch on the lights,
but I’m still afraid of mice.
Each one
was unique.
Mottled coats
and distinct whisker twitches
or squeaks.
A horror to see,
cannibals
three at once in one trap.
I can only imagine their pain.
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5. |
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Mr. Putin Tells It Like It Was
So you say we’ve made progress?
Well, I want to take it back.
Let’s go marauding.
I really must confess
that I know it’s not the most
becoming thing for me to boast,
but I’m a Viking,
I’d like it all to roast.
I’d like to watch it roast,
and tell it like it was!
Tell it like it was!
Tell it like it was
and like it once will be.
You need a man without no guff
to grab you by your scruffs.
Please give your blood
it will be worth it for my love.
Now just bask beneath my strength,
I’ll use my Judo moves to dole out sprains.
They’re all around us,
Ukrainians with chains.
These Ukrainians enslave.
I tell it like it was!
Tell it like it was!
Tell it like it was,
and like it once will be.
These are my fascists
from ‘neath my mattress.
That’s where they stay
for that rainy day
when there’s badness
to keep at bay.
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6. |
Mold
06:26
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Mold
Dirt’s on the sill.
Do those Christmas lights
strengthen your winter will?
The stuffing left’s all lumps
in your Nana’s quilt.
You better huddle up.
I’ve festered
now you choke
all through the night.
My spores entered when you spoke
in your sleep, mumbling incoherently.
Don’t you wish that I was just. . .
Don’t you wish that I was just. . .
Don’t you wish that I was just a bump in the night?
Refrigerator sweats.
Ceiling drips.
Loveseat’s growin’ fungi, funny smells
from beneath the bed, but above it all
you’re here with me.
I’m no bump in the night.
Some things need your fear,
It’s their daily bread,
else they disappear.
Like the boogie man who loves the dark
parts of our hearts,
the draughts of hate we impart.
That niggling list of slights
gave me my chance
to hide away from the light.
And I grew in your lungs,
noxious, but aloof.
Don’t you wish that I was just a bump in the night?
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Abe Maybe Hamtramck, Michigan
In 1984, before our two earths were unjoined; our timelines shared a history when a mystery rift in our time and space did ope' and out of nowhere emerged this race: a collective of disembodied space-born brains.
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