1. |
Still Life
05:36
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Still Life
I reached for the secret too late
Spent decades peering out the gate
Till the sunlight rusted
And the prize over-ripened and caved in
Now nothing’s real except what’s in the mind
I’ve grown hunched and miserly with my time
And lost belief in the necessity
Or effectiveness of speech
If you’re someone who knows this place
Then I cannot seek you
Because you’re long beyond the being sought
A part of me still lives in that rich wet dirt
Or wearing flannel in a rural basement
Singing, “welcome to the machine”
I’m finally looking like myself to myself again
But they’re not impressed
They know I scraped up the dregs
And made a sculpture approximating beauty
Maybe I'm better than ever
But still growing transparent
Is it the tattle-tale flatness of my cheeks
Or simply that I’ve been seen around here for years
And I can’t figure out where to go next
Feel like I’m harboring a Faberge
No one gives a damn about
But it can go nowhere
It can stay inside a box I hold
And be legitimate
And have taught me things
And allow me to understand
What an artist on the TV is saying
Even the One I have now chosen
Questions the fruit of my impulse
He who has the same impulse
And similarly does not value his own
What gives one’s words authority
What gives one’s art authority
I’m bashing my head on this
I’m whipping myself over this
My pipe is stopped because of this
There’s silence in my mouth
As from the mouth of the artist on TV
Arcs a skein of whitest birds
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2. |
Never Found Mine
05:03
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Never Found Mine
I listen as another musician reminisces
About being the kind of teenager I never was
Sounding like maybe they actively touched
The flame that singed them instead of watching it from a distance
They say they felt at home in the spaces where music was made
Coalesced with their kind
But I never found mine
Don’t wanna be tricked into wearing a jersey or flag
I don’t agree with anyone all of the time
Don’t wanna pretend like I do
I struggle with the company of artists these days
But maybe I always have
Though it seems they’re all quite inspired lately
Like a punch in the face makes them get things done
And their words more real
I dare them to hang in the grey for a day
Without drinking themselves blind
Though I appreciate the headway they made
While I was grappling with my own damn mind
Everything seems an argument over the definition of truth
I don’t know what to make of you
Who always have something to say
I have no sense of righteousness
Only confusion
I’m just trying to write what I know
And speak for no one but myself
Relativism more dangerous than ever now
Still I can't get an absolute out my mouth
I’ve started to understand
What the one I used to know was talking about
Zealotry's not for the high minds
But for those low-to-the-ground
I keep it away from my Love
I keep it away from the cave I’ve built for myself
An idea that, once it left the mind
Became worth editing out
They just need something to clean up after
To keep the fellows warm
To commune with every Sunday
To feed the hungry soul
Something for popular songs
And people who believe in the solid center
Instead of the hollow core
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3. |
The Only Thing
03:04
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The Only Thing
First it's "Come here"
Then it's "On your knees, babe"
But I stay distant
Doesn't involve me
I'm in leather in an armchair
And this is one hell of a joke
I'm in the corner in stiletto
And I'm having a little smoke
And it's not me
But it is me
As I watch you
Said it's not me
But it is me
As I watch you
And suddenly I'm in
In the bathhouse, in the Senate, in the fold
I have a way
A way to break the mold
That kills me
It's the only thing that makes me feel anymore!
("Innocent love?" What is this "innocent love?"
I’ve never felt such thing as "innocent love")
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4. |
A Certain Constellation
03:36
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A Certain Constellation
You wrote me letters many years after
To tell me I was full of shit
And “love was a ruse to justify coming”
Dripping with bitter syrup
That wouldn’t come into vogue
Until many years later
In black rooms of roil and seethe
And invade our daily vocabulary
It’s pathological fear of missing out
You go mad thinking someone knows
A secret no one taught you
I pray that you'll thaw out
Before you kill
Asking me to read Ayn Rand
Begging me to see that you exist
Flattering me with insults to my gender
If I had dared
To rise in your eyes
Fall under your scrutiny and then fall in Love
I can only imagine your rage
You existed in my life before I even had a word for you
In his accusations of the trick of makeup
And flattering photo angles
His disdain for putting one on
His recoil from signs of frailty
Entitlement
With gentle hands
Entitlement
With “my best interest”
With an old college try
An illusion of honest effort
You wrote me letters many years after
To tell me you were full of
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5. |
Pitfalls, Revisited
10:15
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Pitfalls, Revisited
I.
A little part of me always transformed into my lovers
Love was the sublimation of myself
One said, "Cover your shoulder"
One scoffed at my little girl clothes
And I thought maybe they had a point
So I started a trashcan fire
Scared to speak a word
Lest it be twisted into unanticipated forms
Your misogyny didn’t recognize itself
Even thought itself evolved
It’s the one thing that I never miss at all
II.
First we felt like equals and you thought
My intuitive key changes were clever
Then when you were finished with me
You reduced me to a trope
Regarded me in stilted language
To put me at a distance
Some say I ought to feel you stole from me
But until I give up running for the beauty
I expect not to know love from vanity
To be left with only glitter in my sheets
Like each time Oscar’s golden, spoiled boy
Alighted in the cruelty of morning
III.
Hey - you made me what I am
Where did you go
Pulling the strings of the show
More determinedly now since I let you go
I still picture you
Alone at the end of a drink
In the shadow of a hand-me-down weight machine
Your forehead faintly lined
And the glint of the blue-grey steel in your eye
Dulled with daily duty
And sallow time
Tori sings of Bobby
Vincent sings of John
I sing of you, my sexless perpetual fantasy
Floating around like a Chagall
Teasing me
You assassinated yourself
And rose up like Draper
Like Underwood
Till I didn’t want you anymore
And for that I kind of hate you
IV.
Oh god how I wish I could hate
Wish I could hate
Wish I could hate
He with the accent and frosted tips
Who despises nothing more than obligation
Or he with the country boy aplomb
Raking weak minds
Into a congregation
I can tell what you’re like when you're alone
What made you cruel
What made you devastating
But you’ve built an arsenal
And planned my demise
While I’ve been here contemplating
I always heard you out just a bit too long
With the spiral cord twisting itself around my arm
In a stew of arousal and pity
I drink to the girl in the oversized glasses
Whatever made her do this for a living
I guess there's also a sliver of it in me
V.
Teresa you thought your vision was sharp
But you had an unrealized handicap
Like me piercing souls with my black-brown eyes
But behind thick lenses, stumbling into things
Delusions of power
Thinking I could safely breach their bedrooms
Throw my head back laughing
Toss my hair
Slice to their bones
And come out alive
Not recognizing the delicacy of my
Sublime crushable windpipe
Or that they could reduce me to
A screaming blue
Splatter of myself
Circling tinier and tinier still
Into oblivion
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6. |
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The Perils of Coattail-Riding
Only now do I see it all clear
Since I've passed the age you were then:
Your moral ambiguity around certain literary figures
Where maybe there shouldn't have been
Your ivory milquetoast daydreams of revolution
For which you also skewered yourself
So none could call you humorless or un-self aware
Even while pledging allegiance to self over all
And that one song - a contrived ode
That contrasted male and female reasons for cheating -
I felt uncomfortable singing
(I know now) 'cos it was mired in the binary
(Somehow the song where you spoke as a drag queen
Didn't make up for that, in fact
Now that I think on it
Your self-congratulation
Detracted from it mightily)
And all of a sudden I also get why my mother
Was annoyed at your leaving some of your gear
In my possession for years
Like of course I'd keep it for you
Though your wealth bought more square footage than I'll ever own
Back then I sang and sang in chorus with you
Thinking I agreed
Not realizing I didn't
A strange songbird more full-throated
And lower-voiced than you
But what I also hear in your old recordings
Is the creeping of a fear I am only starting to know
As my thirties narrow to a pinhole
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7. |
Nebulous Creations
03:23
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Nebulous Creations
I'm sitting with two young men
At a picnic table in cold wind
One throws ideas at a white space on his wall
Kept vacant for this purpose
One stuffs a file full of pieces of an invisible world
That no one will ever see if he can help it
And they expound on these nebulous creations unashamedly
And I sit mute and burning with a history
That maybe five people in the world have followed
One became a different person who was an unscrupulous stranger
One lost their mind, then reconstituted it
In a strange robotic form
The others had babies and learned a kind of importance
That makes nothing else important, least of all
Solo selfish bastards like me
And there are clues I drop to this history
And there are dark spaces I hammer words into at night
That all the world can access
That tell all my stories plain, if they only ventured to go there
And I'm a business-minded, practical person
Who knows the importance of a good elevator speech
But I don't want to do that work
I want those who need to find me come and find me
And find themselves burning as they turn the pages and start
Fitting the pieces together
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8. |
Roses
02:01
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Roses
Last night I went to a panel talk
And there was one who caught my eye because she sat
With her legs crossed in purple tights
And her elbow hooked over the back of her chair
And the corner of her mouth was upturned in a knowing way
And when someone tried to pin the spotlight to her
She spoke in nonchalant generalities
That shimmied out of the way
And tossed a few clues that I caught
But the depths remained
Rippling, dusky, and un-plunged
And even more beguiling, she said,
"I'm just here to listen"
And I wanted to shower her with roses
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9. |
Latecomer
02:08
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Latecomer
Latecomer - don’t think you know anything
What it was like
The feeling of splintered wood beneath my hand
The soft unlatching
The view from that strange elevation
It was golden
And you and yours
Can’t estimate its beauty
Who never think in terms of what things could be
Who make sure your heart curls up small
Who don’t mythologize at all
Latecomer - don’t pretend to know who I have been
So maybe you are gentler than most
And almost hush the coaxing of the ghost
Don’t purport to grasp the history
Recorded in a language only He and I can read
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10. |
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Why I Wanted to Go to Vegas
This is why I wanted to go to Vegas
With you and no one else
Because nothing anyone ever said made sense to us
Because you never wanted to marry me
Because we’re still children: cleaner and dirtier than most
Because you let me break you down for fun
Because we like the gears of old clocks
To snap photos of ourselves standing in the arch of time
Because our families made us cut ourselves with words
Because your hair was chemical
And your skin was inked
While your heart stayed fine and pure
Because we watched a young man sing
A song he wrote for his wife
He howled like he was hungry
And I feel you and I are superior
With our strange and sudden episodes of abandon
But general lack of need
Like it's something we can choose to feed
Or not
Because the old king of the scene is going around
Showing pretty women pictures
Of the coffin he built for himself
And your shoulder’s the one I rest my head on
With you I stay a child
I don’t embrace the drift
Though I know it'll be the death of me
You make me feel like a girl
More than I ever felt like one
A little cyclone blowing around the playground
Showing off her scraped knees
I want to grab you by your slim shoulders and shake you
When you're thinking in circles
That speed up your five o’clock shadow
We have to figure out the right way to be together
I still don’t wish to belong to anyone
But I find myself always wanting to bring you home
And I’ll never write a song for you
Because you don't make me sick
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11. |
This Much Red
06:53
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This Much Red
She died when the dust blew from her hands the last time
But I’m still here across the way
It’s just the odds have gotten steeper
And maybe my smirk line’s grown a little deeper
But I won’t respond to this by rushing
Headlong into obsolescence
I’m keeping my metaphorical collar popped
Thank you very much
I've been told I invent little games
And see how long I can keep them up
He likes it when I call him a selfish boy
Lay into him with instructions
It’s a game you need safety to play
Trust to inflict
A play you can’t act in without childish frustration
And quivering bottom lip
The parenting maxims tacked up
Under his mama’s cabinet
Warn against everything she later did wrong
And the fallout from this is a gift
Laid at my doorstep
He’s a child hearing the fight in the kitchen
Swell out of control
Trying to stroke it till it heals
But he can’t contain me
No he can’t assuage me
And his hand in the small of my back
Will only enrage me
He calls me out for bold disclosures
About who I did what with
He says “Why would you tell me that”
And it makes me reflect on why I’d do it
Something about preserving my separateness
And saying "This is who I was before you
And I’d still exist without you
And I’ll never be your accoutrement
No matter what this culture wants"
I can’t accept my connection to these people
Was completely arbitrary
So I keep a piece of them with me
Every now and then in the night
I remember their warm humanity
Dream them into something they were not
She wants me to want what she wants:
The buxom still life
The rich brushstroke
But I’m still a wayward
Repulsed by labels
I thought I might change with the milk of his kindness
But I fight for myself all the more
In the creeping warmth of this love
When the middle of the song falls in
Like a house on its own dark heart
I crawl across the carpet
Curling fists into the pile
Looking up at him for a reaction
Passion
But he balances me out
He says, “I can’t act like that”
And one of my feet threatens the door
Until I remember his temperance
Is the thing I need the most
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12. |
Affliction #1
02:34
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Affliction #1
You got me tight, trussed up
Breathing in defiance of your coy constriction
You took away my crowning glory
Left me in meted out restriction
And I always seem OK
Till you get bored and want to play
Pin the pain on the extremity
And it's never been my philosophy
To change my behavior for a stab in the dark
Overhaul my life when success isn't even guaranteed
I'll keep drinking and dancing in the face of you
Eating and tearing around
Unless you put me in the ground
Why even bother
You could leave at any time
You've left before
Hug me like Violet's punishing corset
Then recede like these end-of-autumn trees
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13. |
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When I Listen to Mount Eerie
When I listen to Mount Eerie
I'm ashamed that what I think of first
Is not the death of a loved one
But the physical loss
Of someone I probably never even loved
Not spouse, not child
Just someone whose pain I tried to shoulder for awhile
Who was a little unmoored at the time
Whom I resented
For trying to use me as a blanket
To smother himself with
So I withdrew until he recoiled
And suddenly wasn't there
And the winter sunlight poured in
And the absence left me shivering
And leftover caring spilling out of me for nothing
Into nothing
Truthfully I'm really too old
To maintain these sloppy habits
And the thought that I can just go on like this forever
But even this recognition is too much
And makes something I don't want to let
Crawl from the black of the bag
I can't help but listen to Elverum sometimes
And the more I listen, I don't feel sad anymore
It's a cold, careful scientific study
To prepare me for whatever may be coming
Now that I've picked a partner
Who seems impossibly healthy
Who sleeps the right amount every night
And adjusts the time he gets up
So he can scrape ice off his windshield and still be on time
Who is terrified of ultimate forgetfulness
Whose aesthetic sensibilities and absurd humor
Transcend anything as base as fucking
Whose pullover and core of being are so downy
I could die wrapped in them and not be afraid -
Now I am vulnerable to this awfulness Elverum is singing
But when I think about it
In those old days
Didn't this always lie right beneath the surface
Of the glitter
And the posturing
And the appropriation of classic poetry?
Didn't my old pretend love kiss the top of my head
When I looked at empty wood planters and saw coffins?
Wasn't I in my kindergarten principal's office
Crying all the time
About something I couldn't express?
All of this always has been here
And colored my responses to everything
It's just that somewhere deep I knew the reckoning
Was so far off
It was pointless to think about
But now
It's not
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14. |
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If I Don't Write This It's Not Real
You're feeling like you're better
But suspect that you're worse
Past the age where we still compliment each other's looks
'Cos we're no longer sure if it's nature or man
That glues each other together
You're supposed to know other things are more important
Even now it's not quite real to me yet
But it grows more dire each year
I see footage of when It all started for others
That's already a decade old
And still I won't get it till I get it
I’m a foolish child deciding I’m not ready
To know what these things are really about
And someday soon I’m sure the decision will be made for me
I’ve always felt songs were for sadness, not parties
But never for sadness this deep
More for playacting and makeup and sex and things
Monopolized by the young
I want another decade with a fully formed brain
Before the real departures start
It's nothing but privilege I've had till this point
Able to live grown with the whims of a child
With those who made me
Content to keep silent in the wings
Just thankful I survived
All of those raging youthful things
Like visits to the scenes of old crimes
And devaluations of my own mind
But let's be real
The next ten won't be like these were
(Looking roughly the same and caretaking none but myself)
No, these will make me tap into a wealth
That may or may not prove enough
I brace for a tax on my self
Nights now I suspend myself in amber
So my limbs float beside me nearly numb
And I gently fall down a hole in the dark
And words hit me at new angles
And I've always thought I'm not long for all of this
Which gathers more clout the further from childhood I drift
Way back when, when some of my pain was pretend
We sat at the edge of the buzzing green woods that pressed in
And you smoked beside me
And ash fluttered down on my shirt
And you apologized but let it happen again
I'd give anything for the harmless young pain I had then
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15. |
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Why I Can't Stop This Completely
I wrote to him again last night
After I truly thought I was done with it
His rhetoric in recent years
Had distanced me enough
To make me slam the book shut
But I was drunk
And the music sounded beautiful
And the tree from his old yard
Was toppled by a storm this year
That left its massive root system
Flung up vertical
And whereas the replies sometimes
Used to take a year
This time it was overnight
And enclosed
Was a snapshot of the view
Right in front of him
And I never used to be
Able to write about him like this
Just state the facts
Instead of some idiotically
Thirsty-sounding mythology
That neither of us had earned
And maybe for the first time
His words are spare
And not suggestive of anything
And there's one part I especially like:
"There's nothing wrong with nostalgia"
And - ah - that's why
I can't stop this completely
He's the only one I know
Who truly believes that
And would say it aloud to me
And I really don't want to "catch up"
Would rather keep the notion of him
At arm's length
Scared how much of the old character is left
But also scared how much of him is gone
Some people you never won't question
Some people you never won't question yourself around
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16. |
Moth
04:09
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Moth
That day I saw an amazing moth on the concrete
And I remarked on it to you
The pattern on its back like a geometric tattoo
And later when you were out
Through the locked door
While I was sitting in the middle of the floor
I heard the young couple upstairs who fight
And rumble sliding glass in the middle of the night
Come downstairs
And the girl saw the moth
And in a performance fit to reverberate
To the back of a vast theater
Cried out that it looked like a devil
And she didn't like the way it was watching her
And began goading the boy into killing it
And my muscles froze
And the boy didn't want to
And kept saying it wasn't doing nothing
And it's just as scared of you
But she wouldn't let up
As if it were a test of his love or manhood
And finally, my eyes stinging with tears that surprised me
I listened to the fall of the broom
One swat and eventually two
And even that wasn't enough for her
And my face burned with rage
And I wish to this day I'd stormed through that door
Flung myself under their incredulous gaze
Scooped it up and carried it away
But all I did was sit on the floor, eyes welling
And when I crossed the threshold later
Avoided looking down
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Sold Kingdom Charlottesville, Virginia
Soothingly brutal bystander balladry
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