Whereforto Ye Wanderers

Whereforto Ye Wanderers.



Tuesday, January 11, 2011

...these are the scrawlings of a madman
embodied by a woman
empowered by the dead

...these are the bloodstains splayed
across pale pink walls
inside a house of poor craft
and barrier, standing only to see
the portrait of a family
burn up into smoke out into the
fateful winter

...these are the songs denouncing
one's own generation
being held together only by
credit, jesus and indie rock

...these are my own fingers
snapping to the cold and static rythm
of a crumbling bridge over
still, dark waters

...these are going on
without me now, into the night
speaking softly to the shadows
sewn to the sky in one
long and crooked stitch

speaking softly now
of stitches, the ones
you left in my chest
are coming undone...

3 comments:

ikon said...

i love you,
that's all.

COOP said...

are you coming to town?!

ikon said...

yes, yes i am.
first two weeks of february, biatch.
party time.