Stack of past moments climbs behind the wheel
+ July 7th fumbles to twist the ignition
an 18 year old loved the artificial heat
an 8 year old bloomed in the rich, autumn cold.
Linear addition of powder + blasting caps
or gently digging David out of flush marble tomb
the strange world's a strobe light that jack-knifes refractions
through the spilling liquid being, runneth over in drops.
Flick of a lever sparks the black air ahead
+ hand puppet shadows are cast back a decade
Remember the constant recoil from the silhouettes stretched into nightmares?:
The future was haunted.
The future was broken guardrails
the future was a tar pit suicide
the future put a knife in your hand.
Newburg bridge is stabbing the mountains
+ yesterdays sun dies beautifully
burying itself somewhere in the Allegheny plateau
Sep. 27th looks beyond the hood + falls
face first into the skies stirred cotton
final godrays bleed the clouds of their blue + blood + gold
+ lavender + green.
+ out of the speakers tinny, claustrophobic static
your song rises random
+ there you are.
Not clutching the wheel or cranking the volume knob
I see your curled body held close in the backseat
exhaustion bruised eyes that shudder w/ REM,
+ drooling blade dangled, biting the glow of the bled out star.
The devil you knew.
edge finds familiar groove in foreign palm,
serrations like canines lining something garish, absurd
The devil we don't shoots through the window
arcs over the guardrails
+ leaves a final cut in the curdled black tide:
There.
Sleep all you want now. I'll keep the backseat open,
I'll wake you when your songs come on.
You'll be 24 forever, but I'm wrapping the cut we made on your hand.
[state date + specific events as doing actions]
Moments stacked like a deck of cards climbs behind the wheel
Stack of past moments climbs behind the wheel
v fumbles to v twist
+ July 7th turns the key + July 7th fumbles to twist the ignition
An 18 year old loved the artificial heat
v fall
+ an 8 year old loved the cold
v autumn
an 8 year old bloomed in fell, cold
Linear addition of powder + blasting caps ↴ or gently digging David
v flush
or digging out David from his marble tomb, out of flush marble tomb
v that
the strange world’s a strobe light w/ jack-knifes refractions
through the spilling liquid being that tops up in drops.
(runneth over)
(through the spilling liquid being, runneth over (in) w/ drops.) <- that
Momu Monument stands tour de force in the sun
hand puppet shadows stretch back a decade
v stands
Flick of a lever to ignite the black air (ahead)
Flick of a lever sparks the black air ahead _ Remember the constant
tour de force monument helm’s the suns litter | recoil from the
+ hand puppet shadows are cast back a decade | silhouettes stretched
______| into nightmares:
The future was haunted. |-(broken guardrails into tar pit suicide)
|
The future was a tar pit suicide |The future was broken guardrails
the future put a knife in your hand. |The future was a tar pit suicide
The future put a knife in your hand.
Now you make a portage over the Newberg bridge
Newburg bridge is stabbing the mountains
+ the yesterdays sun dies beautifully
burying itself somewhere in the Allegheny plateau
v(Sep. 27th) v skies
looksup beyond the hood + falls face first into the stirred cotton flesh
blue +
final godrays bleedingthe clouds of their red + orange, blue + blood + gold
+ blue + green + lavender + lavender + green.
+ your song rises random from the quagmire of static filled speakers
+ there your you are
not b gripping the wheel or cranking the volume knob
a curled up monument I see your curled up body close in the rearview
Sleep all you want now
I’ll wake you v up when your songs come one on. _______________________________________
You’ll be 24 forever The devil you knew |edge finds familiar groove
but I’m wrapping the cut we made on your hand. |in foreign palm
+ out offrom the quagmire of static filled speakers |the del devil we don’t.
your song rises random from the bro archeologic board |arcs over the guardrails,
.+ there you are |+ leaves a final cut
not gripping the wheel or cranking the volume knob |in the curdling black
I v(Sep 27th)see your curled body held close in the review(backseat) |tide beneath.
drooling blade dangled to bite the glow of vthebled out star |There.
___________________________|
Sleep all you want now I’ll wake you up when your songs come on
You’ll be 24 forever but I’m wrapping the cut we made on your hand.
+ out of the quagmire of static filled speakers
your song rises random
+ there you are.
Not clutchingcranking the wheel or cranking the volume knob
ISep. 27th sees your curled up body held close in the backseat
exhaustion bruised eyes that shutter w/ REM,
doo + drooling blade dangled to bite the glow of the bled out star.
The devil you knew.
edge finds familiar groove in foreign palm,
the devil we don’t.
It shoots out through the window
arcs over the guardrails
+ leaves a final cut in the curdled black tide.
There. _ I’ll keep the backseat open.
Sleep all you want now. _| I’ll wake you when your songs come on
You’ll be 24 forever but I’m wrapping the cut Y we made on your hand.
Taffer-Tailor 