Inspired largely by Anne Sexton's "Said The Poet To The Analyst":
My business is words. Words are like labels,
or coins, or better, like swarming bees.
I confess I am only broken by the sources of things;
as if words were counted like dead bees in the attic,
unbuckled from their yellow eyes and their dry wings.
I must always forget who one words is able to pick
out another, to manner another, until I have got
something I might have said...
but did not.
Your business is watching my words. But I
admit nothing. I worth with my best, for instances,
when I can write my praise for a nickel machine,
that one night in Nevada: telling how the magic jackpot
came clacking three bells out, over the lucky screen.
But if you should say this is something it is not,
then I grow weak, remembering how my hands felt funny
and ridiculous and crowded with all
the believing money.
lyrics
With my muse in a coma
thoughts retreat to their home:
a distressed set of walls
with tympanic windows.
I bite my doorstop--
was there a sign
of forced exit here,
near where occupants died?
The afflicted are lifted, sifted, and reenlisted:
Invalids working ‘till they’re sleeping or jumping.
Yes, my head is a hospice
for plans, lines, and lists.
“Idea-less idealists
make for selfish hosts,” he says,
“Hosts or hostesses.”
These live documents
are the opiate
of the word addicts.
Let’s keep these words working
‘till they’re sleeping or jumping.
Adopting an optimistic, genre-fluid mindset atypical to most contemporary punk rock, the Aussies rage against the machine with glee. Bandcamp New & Notable May 2, 2024
From the first deadened cowbell to the last dissonant guitar interval, Dutch quartet Geo's new record is shaped for impact. Bandcamp Album of the Day Apr 25, 2024