(0:00) Safe Sex
(9:30) Death Trip
Iridology lens—through the rain on the roof, you were studyin’ me, & my teeth were loose. Then what did we owe, & to whom? To whom, to whom, to whom? / What could you need? Yr tears, yr tea. A body can find a zero degree. A body is fine; I stand in the scene like an understudy. / Safe sex. Safe sex, safe sex. / Iridology lens, I was factory-made. What could I know ‘bout a bond or a break? I’m a camcorder, babe; the light is concave in the yard, in the yard. / What could I owe, and to whom? The light is so high in the room. It travels on me like a tram-- & what do I owe, and to whom? / Safe sex. Safe sex, safe sex. / Bees comin’ back from wherever they went hover over my bed: little revenants. You’d come if I called, but is that what I want? Is that what I want? / I came through the mail, each cell is a jail . . .
Came into this with a bloody lip—keep a cast of yr fist in my cabinet. Come on, teach me how to spit; the street’s already wet. / I’ve been bitter as a runner. A runner. / Embers embers embers—every time a different fire. Every night a higher pyre, looks just like a watercolor. I can be concise; i’n’t that what you get behind? Light the match with humid fingers. / When will it be? Well a week could go by & I’d know it was me; I decided it all. Molecules & molotovs-- now I’m electrically neutral. / My heart sinks like a sun-- sinks like a sun. / Embers embers embers—every time a different fire. Every night a higher pyre, looks just like a watercolor. I could be concise— kiss you like it’s summer-- but every sky’s insipid white; 96 tears & 96 eyes.
Sealing me in like an astronaut, you go play doctor while it’s still dark. I take my mother’s face some places she would never. I’m gonna pay like an astronaut for my idiot love & I know it. / Well I’m payin’ right now, just walkin’ around. I’m payin’ right now in the flash of the street—where you knelt low with yr stethoscope & it fastened to me like a leech. / Mold creepin’ in through yr pictures. Bat silhouettes singin’ over our heads. Red wine lips in the summer make you look like yr freezing to death. / Now I’m gonna sleep. Now I’m gonna sleep.
Up on the arch . . . differentiation. I’m young as fuck & I got no equation. How many ways can I profane the sun? / I’m on a death trip. Anything could be better than . . . / Now every truck cuts its velvet engine & every snail shrivels in the garden. My stupid heart whirrs just like a television. / I’m on a death trip. Anything could be better than anything could . . .
from SAFE SEX
released April 23, 2015
Auxiliary sounds & percussion by Neal Anderson & Austin Davis.
Mixed & mastered by Sven Carlsgaard.
all rights reserved