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1. |
Loop and Cache
00:50
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Loop and Cache
wattle fell in, dust where mortar had been, settled where cloud began
rain where sparrows ran, wings where feathers fan, rainbow dwindled
water to solder to crystal, dip and spin dappled, clever and clever
where never a window had been, where never sin nor leisure go
where naught but crest and cackle stow there sun be-spectacled casket
peck, peck, pecking at the thews in limned actuation, gauze not fit for gazing
where people began, where turgor’s been
where armistice and violin – so rolls the burden
rolls the song, rolls the penance ‘er along
none see the wound for weeping
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2. |
Transverseal Lessen
02:26
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Transverseal Lessen
it’s a balancing penny, copper under the tongue
how these transactions come, that the shotgun isn’t intended thus
sprint and disconnect, drawn incorrect by the kick, burned hand left butterflied
three inches from the end of the steel, reverse shot cross-blocked
butt-stroke pass from block, bleeding right flutter on trigger
survival at one hundred twenty-one pounds is doing it wrong
fugue-dream closer, lead cast knobs tick-ticking behind the roar
when heart clears 200, I see
flick of the target slot, one of many, and next, and next and –
the child I was dreams in the head of I am
secure-tape somewhere catching the wind
that I might see again
this dream, where down is aliens reflecting from walls
run up, rotate, kick, dark with everyone-in
seared skin only memory
this dream, the adversary’s joints – a him – ignore shoe-worn conditions
disarm to print, infighting – I’m taken when toe-pulls-trigger
long gun’s transverse shot enters top of head
disassociates, redirects through neck, breaks collar bone on exit
frustrated dead, this missed thing – reminding hard of shiny palm
reflecting plastic-cracked
clear run, set down gun, stand ready
dead a thousand’s times, still steady-faced
doubt the only distance
and behind the penny’s taste, every hand in which it’s been
ever-loved face’s grin, every enemy they let within
closer to keep, terrarium overlay of glass and velum, one within one within one
self-keep in life again, stickler and trade, flicker and fade
transact upon fleeting interim, begun in –
this dream where heart clears 200, I see
sticks of the tactical plot, strategic memory lot
that dead again is still becoming, grin and reverse the target slot
click wound closed or leave it open, confusion’s absolving drift
thick, and thicker still the rift between here and penny’s refraction
sifted, closely shifted – heart clear, I see
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3. |
Death Ground
02:10
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Death Ground
to stand and fight when one has no choice defines one has no choice
that one might of simple life make rape, make killing, say –
oft mine own choice taken from me, I lay my hand upon my enemy
tear from them their eyes, their throat, claim driven and unto death
so drive my enemies from me, lay claim to my lack of laying claim
that I might not even have my own, in self, in comrade, in arm
instead be shallow wight, ghost of act, willed spiritless
spit upon the wind what howls beyond my threshold, say –
I have no thresholds, and not my own, am enemy –
so clarity let us be – my killings were my own, my enemies my own
my will that drove the bone between their broken pieces solely my volition
death’s ground careful chosen, where mine own will drove it
be no lies between us, neither you, nor I, nor enemy
where fierce you would claim will, I claim incision
surgeon to mine own manifest, cut clean of my own infestation
each error mine assessed, accepted, or missed perhaps – but still mine own
I am my own threshold, and of mine own, am entity –
be what you will, but claim it still and gated gain self-sanctuary
and breached of will, and broken still, bestir thine own self, know the breach
and sundered seal the fracture, where mortar leaches close and powders
tuck point and rest, for still in any be broken – solid will does ghost and kiln
be it mine, or yours, or any – whose stance resets, and staggered still
states – this ground here is mine for killing, or this ground here for waiting
patient waiting, chosen still, claim with no need of claiming
threshold I am, and gated still – seek breach and gain mine enmity –
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4. |
How Each a Warning
02:41
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How Each A Warning
last warning was overlay, dry-eyed scratching, some house-memory where my grandmother’d been
curious white-walled rooms, battle continuing behind the gauge of steel sheeting, behind vent-work
one road between rooms, ducts between my sealed plaster and the popular out-of-doors
tippy-steps without carpet runner somewhere in memory, overhead lights from white dome to gray
gift-tapped memories these, structured well within berm, of a room’s serpent mound, of a hum
old people gone to wire, where wire brings to a room – that one could lift an old lamp, check circuit in
background Geiger hiss, no clicks, just hydrogen intent, androgen enmity, somewhere in here
find presence by changing conductance position, wrap right hand flutter sixty times per second
where the dead have been one simply lays in awareness, conduces perchance intrusion
looks stupid, waving an antique brass and wire, blind-sword sticking – everyone in?
last warning wasn’t clarity, snicking comfort of cold iron somewhere beyond horse-hair skim-coat
faces unsown, simply waiting, known never a hair nor tolerant brow, lamp-wire weft, waft tincture
peeling awareness back one dyed scratch at a time, plenty here, plenty – intruder and lyre in form
edges faded thus, that light cast becomes wristed position, brass hum revision of space it’s in
becomes monochrome source without color or flavor, intent by the measure – and measured intent
where knob and tube have been, ceramic fingers laced tight within, gaze upon walkers’ old tired eyes
balance is here, balance is here, disturbance towards edges – and then dreamer gains seeing
old ghost in the tenor, in casting long lightning, where gauges colloid between solder and steel
condition annealed in carbon and copper, circumspect copper – and stick with the pin, baling and all
foolish seeming at last, but breaking the trap in corrosion and glass – is everyone in?
last warning was parity, difference, and valence
clean vale have care – the worlds arranging
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5. |
Round Mushroom Garden
00:46
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Round Mushroom Garden
could I but dream awaking, shaking shell
I would of this cold suffering, breaking hell
strident test in formless toil, torus bell
breach klein’s magnetosphere, aural gel
where but for breaching well are saved
and thus for breaching well are saved
could I but wake this seeming, flowered dell
my blood in this caul’d offering, trenching well
trident stressed in whirled boil, wrenching swell
beach mine’s the singing weir, aura dwell
where but for stitching well are saved
and thus for beaching well are saved
could I but dream awaking, where I fell
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6. |
Surviving Ruination
01:37
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Surviving Ruination
encumbered, one supposes, by ancestral observation
faith recedes to a matter of time, differing with one's befores
spawning one's afters, derivation
I used to believe in beautiful things
all aspects fractal conglomerate, foremost witnessed sections near-sealed
filed ticks and interspersion, shist ruin rooted equally to radon's gasp
and granite underlay, purples and greens in crystal
swinging to each thread, this-a-way
slumbered, one supposes, by polyhedral legacion
wraith succeeds to a spatter of whine, rotary quick, quick cutting
engorged in one's masters, relations
I used to shrieve most delicate palms
curtailing lines, once for each psalm, back-awards to one near-wielded
vital flame intrusive, quartz rhythm and piezoelectric division
Tenebræ done waxing cotton, nearly proof to weeping
stinging to each weed, this-a-way
lumbered, one supposes, by remaining graven
braith soon bleeds to a speckle of wine, posterity slick and a blessing
name from the nameless, un-naming
I used to believe in beautiful things
my names in my hands I'm becoming
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7. |
Lieder
00:36
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8. |
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Eulogy Hasn’t Happened Yet
that healing might as easily be a matter of blood and vapor trails
particles of that which we’ve moved through, entrails and waste behind
as it might be simply to lay one’s throat to the stone and spin
bring the wheel round again in tremulous questing, valued, devalued
impinges, bends the world-walls
I can feel my hands flare, but the spasm is silent and awash in flowing over
no through, change beyond change simply not a part of my system
subsidence and walking on, black on the chin –
I can see how vengeance became so popular
lens effect without target
impinges, creases sanctuary’s halls
give me an enemy who’s done this
that I might bite out their heart
stand hissing, done
this patient wait is not my thing
breathing is a matter of remembering breath program
with his head in my hand, and no sovereignty here
these walls are not mine to bend
where bending impinges
leave architecture standing, stone upon stone
and if you burn a little too
at least you took no-one with
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9. |
Articulated Folds
02:47
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Articulated Folds
June 2, 2009
difficulty with swinging the hammer so much is that you get used to swinging the hammer
sired cliché it is, and tired of finding nails in the old growth, where nails hadn’t been
perhaps turning it in would make sense, were each day not at the forge, or pulling the wire
braising in intricate turn, soldiering in stronger roots, tapping hydrogen’s three degree insistence
homecoming requires home, making unwinds stasis, hand’s revolution from sling to spiral
sting-set chiral elocution rung unto meal, patterning arm’s more-ray recursion thinner
attention’s ten-o graph riddled entire, revision, revision, revision – and wire
difficulty with folding the symmetry so much is that you get used by the folding welcome
fired epiphany it is, inspired by inconsistencies in metal oath avenue, where pathways haven’t been
perhaps Turing it would make incense, were each way not at the gorge, or plowing under rivers
blazing wins reliquary burns, soldering against
hammer-fall homes
map-fissure, trapping out antigen’s 3 sine wing
hum combing retires, dome taking up wind’s entasis stretch, furrow measured spline-handed
sing tet-viral reclusion rungs onto metal, remorse’s cursed ion pattering armor, black-wet skin
anodized and shadow ridden, rider, risen – earth hollow’s gown entire
difficulty with entire gown hollow so much is that you get used to the empty entire
grip back into its lean furlong, sewing delicate stippled mercury seed, never breathed nor hater made
perhaps daring intransigence thus, braced furnace to argony wisps, based voltaic potential
phrasing in minuet twists, woad upon ode upon old, slipping wheat words to foundation
honeycomb sweetens intention, waking minds its places, sexed revelation’s eversion
thing-met so used to swinging, the hammer, materiel re-bound eternal, ringlet now ring – now curl
tension’s universe moans suspended, revision, revision, revision – .sig, net, founding
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10. |
Courting
01:10
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Courting
I would take the language back to its beginning
but beginning is the scream of the firstest star
whistle of the nothingness letting in the void
how the empty at my back to my beginning to me
I would take my screaming back to its beginning
but screaming begins only after input scar
thistle of the otherness clutching at the node
how the screaming at my back to my other to me
I would take my other back to its beginning
but I begin other what other would tar
wearing in the blacknest cloak retching at the soak
how the wearing at my back to my throwing up of me
I would take my back back to its beginning
but back is the back of the other – ripple-less sea
crippled of the nothing-less than back to the beginning
firstest and lastest this language in me
silence then ripple-less, ripple-less hiss
hiss and then ripple-less silence in me
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11. |
Of Barley Flour
01:21
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12. |
Old Field New Corse
01:10
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Old Field, New Corse
and in the water a lightening boundary
when last night I had the words driven back in my mouth
first paper, then flame, then breath from whence per cussed retribution
hydrogen to wreak no more
who craves shock-wave, hydrostatic puissance
crumbled ash six times faster than sounds-like-silence
now amidst scattered breast
particulate shadow
fragmentary
and in the vapor a roaring oundeless ary
rowst
articulate bellows
expecting mare's-nest amidst self
rumbled ash merged leaf-to-sapped tang
who savors claven, ionic-steamed
helium to vacuum's shore
first tapers, then flames, then breath from whence soard-cast illusions
when last nights' I've had the liquid star pour from my mouth
and in the flash been ever-foundry
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Wetdryvac's Lair Weld, Maine
Wetdryvac is a consulting device, a musician, and a free will procedural ethicist. This makes for some seriously odd material from time to time, much of which is worked with here as Wetdryvac's Lair.
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