1. |
coctoplasmic sun
04:55
|
|||
|
Something soft to carry you home
I believe, I believe in the beyond
I believe, I believe you’re in my sun
And I’m in yours
I’ll keep you warm
Crack in the sidewalk begat
A puddle of rot
When I say I’m in love, I mean it
I mean it a lot
When you’re awake next
Will you call and leave me a kiss?
I have to go now
But you know cause you’ve already left
Dream
This is my coctoplasmic dream
|
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2. |
||||
|
Something in the sea flickers at me,
divides my mind like a golden sieve
In the sky is a woman
tossing out the stars
Some of them stick but
mostly they fall
and land like embers
on the long long
long long long long
low waves
that shelter the graves
|
||||
3. |
the unanswered question
03:21
|
|||
|
There’s something in the sun and
now the unanswered question
Crying after I thought I forgot
how tears felt underwater,
but you took my hand and
I felt like myself again
There’s something in the sun and
now the unanswered question
Say goodbye to rendered water
This is my coctoplasmic dream
|
||||
4. |
||||
|
No more songs, river sun, river bugs
no yawning hole, no god
in a chair beside me
river sun freezes up, no more fun,
moveless air, house alive and dry
Slush crushes our home
insurgent love keeps us warm
through sun-beaten Kroxet
God grins upon it grins upon it
He is my friend, he is
my darling, an alien
in the tent beside me
|
||||
5. |
50 foot —> 🤷🏻♀️
03:36
|
|||
|
Give myself spines
and thorns and barbs
and horns and heels
and clouds all around
my head. Make myself
small and small and
small until I’m bigger
than the whole town.
Breasts overrun like
grass in the face
of a cliff. Reproduce
the past in difference.
Foraging for seeds,
scraps
directions,
jokes.
All myself,
alone walking slowly.
They tell me to love you,
I tell myself to love you,
but I don’t really want that.
My skin tells me
to be solitary,
but where does it get these cues?
In the wind? In you?
In evergreen trees
resting in time invisible
action of cooling
and slowing detergents’
clean congeal?
I poured nomenclatures
down the mold of ideals
and waited while
the hardening matter
grabbed hold of
dust and errant needles,
tender accidents. If we touch,
it may hurt both of us,
but it would be elective for me,
a whim,
like riding a bike
toward the lighthouse,
and how much comfort
are we allowed in this world?
|
||||
6. |
i'm only sleeping
07:49
|
|||
|
Say the word death
DEATH
|
||||
7. |
||||
|
[instrumental]
|
||||
skeleton yaks New Haven, Connecticut
Jake Gagne
they/she
fka Won Ton Death!
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