from mary wants to be a superwoman

i’m gonna patch up every single little dream *
for paige taggart

this will be our forgiveness rock record

to be brought to experience

when the blizzard ends

they throw a fucking huge parade

and this year will be the year that we win

our private thorns

[trying not to live in]

[other people’s tricked out fantasies

the wishes of your past

a long time ago we were famous

now we lead this kind of teenage life

not thinking we could fall 

or what to consider truly embarrassing

in my dreams we’re still screaming 

dancing in the overdub

running through the yardhere is the song version of you

the sun is too bright

but i want the fucking sunshine

i want a daughter while i’m still young

i want to hold her hand

and show her some kind of beauty

last night when i saw you 

i think maybe i said this was tonight

the past makes me cry it seems so wonderful 

i cry i cry all the time

i can't help feeling sorry for myself

come back home cured

cured but nuts


i feel i want to tell you something

but i forget what

suddenly i just love you

suddenly i seem to be popular and have groupies

when we get together with our various disabilities it is funny

we need to have tea or drinks soon

or hit da club in our fugly stripper shoes

i hope it's nice out where you are today

we didn't even manage to get 

a solid piece of the rainbow

but it is herea song on my phone 

the cars passing by 

something old and familiar

outside my window

you are truly fantastic

where light meets air

and meaning becomes

observed by greatness

i feel truly blessed to have met you

you are saving me

epic brass chainz 4eva

* “shoo-be-doo-be-doo-da-day

closing both my eyes*calvary sticks in my head 
the bird
the cage
the open sky
high on fiction
we can only look
from behind
the pot 
the kettle black
scale of dispossession
being driven cray 
by a nest of baby
get better or
heal yourself
at least we have 
the angels
and here i am
getting all dada 
baroness on you
a tuned string 
don’t need 
no photograph
to remember 
that battle cry 
these things
warm, chiseled
and uninterested
in flinching
the relationships 
of context
rise and fall 
family lines
approaching stereo
i try to sing
but sometimes
i can’t 
on my own
that stretch of forever
horse feathers
shovels and rope
sitting in the dark
you are
the daughter
of sorrows
the song titles 
say it all
i am holding
a mirror
up to you
in this beautiful
no joke 
january cold
we keep the honey
til the wheels 
fall off
tie me up again
i got indian 
blood in me
you can’t heal 
a wound 
with logic

*golden lady

in hard time mississippi*for jerriod avanta wooden house, to be perched on 
if you say some things 
often enough
they ensure their own truth
i am not as strong 
as i pretend to be
maps for the getaway
to the flow
let’s think sweet love
we will have a good life, darling
a spiritual living room
someone touching you
all our sad necessary
and then forgetting
our egypt 80
we chant for everything
middle class
and stars
trying to hold our dreams as though 
trying to hold our dreams
we never sold
these black hills
our throats
slit dry
some people
have a plan
the forests and a tribe
well i’m standing
next to a mountain
so let’s leave it like that
american self image
i always feel 
i am about to die
broken people jesus
jesus christ
open my eyes
and i still can’t see
untitled bird lives
“black is a color”
throw your histories
in the channel
the accidental
i can’t lie 
to myself
i hear you
cool naked
in the garden
can’t have friends
in the mud pile
animals like worms 
and vultures
the problem is
a second burial
my generation
is marked
by the modern 
double image
ghost culture
i wanna wear
all my shit at once
this blue
this honey
this humbling
the fog
has caught up
to you again

*living for the city

gonna show you higher ground*for louise jacksonmy heart was set
on rothko
marrakesh dress steel 
retro choreography
fabric of being 
that expectation
of oceans 
never listen to us 
we set our boats 
on fire
so triggered 
around the past
it seems like 
we’ve always 
been on the water
wandering blue
electric soaked 
in rural american love
white pontiac
minstral show
money is a kind of poverty, too
i’m leaning in
and my everything hurts
this kick in your belly
is just
a kick in your belly
in blackface
in redface
remember when 
the mountain fell
like pennies down
a wishing well
put my hands
in the water
and they 
domestic sphere 
all that shit’s built
on the same story
like a history
of how to make it
native glass 
burnt on spending
those black black hills
our collective lean
plymouth collection
confessional hymn
we nailed 
the tempo
to our heads
a wound motif
we are overcome
by our own 

*higher ground