1. |
A Bridge to Nowhere
02:18
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2. |
The Scorpions' Dance
04:19
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We spent our nights dancing all across the sky,
Stealing Orion’s belt and jarring excess light.
We’d look down staring at vacant tracks,
Tracing the fault lines and watching the growing cracks.
You took me through fallow fields
And presented the season’s yield—
You reaped in the summertime—
And poured me a sour wine.
We drank to transparency,
Headstrong in our apathy.
We smothered all the lights
As our skeletons danced in sight.
Out of the floorboards so slowly they’d rise.
Taking a silver fork and gouging out our eyes.
Our upset stomachs, so deep they would shout
For what our twisted tongues were trying to go without.
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3. |
Room 411
03:38
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The room is empty except for a man
I can’t say I know.
He sits next to me, holds my hand,
As pale as the snow
That I would play in, (in) special days
When my dad had gone away
So in turn I would skip school.
I build his body, give him a face,
A charcoal Cheshire grin.
That grin opens, says, “I love you, dad.”
A warmth spreads through my skin.
I hold him tight. He melts away.
I cry to God, “Why can’t he stay!?”
But God says that, “Visiting hours are over.”
Now I’m alone inside my house,
Grieving for his loss.
I draw a picture to remember
The friend I loved too much.
And dad comes home to failing grades
And tears my drawing, (drawing) tears from my eyes.
He says, “Hey dad I’m back.”
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4. |
Lou and Jay
06:28
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Lou hasn’t slept in sixteen days
He’s been stuck in a somber daze
Glassy red eyes stare
At Jay’s empty wicker chair
Lou steps out into fog
To the shed he slogs
“We’ll never be apart,” Jay said
And he beckons Lou to bed
Lou walks with a brisk pace
Through the unoiled gates
Splinters slide in Lou’s spine
When he climbs in the cheap pine
“Forever Yours, Forever Mine.”
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5. |
r/LumberJack
03:25
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This December night has trapped me
Snowy, rolling hills all I see
I look up for the moon,
But the moon is nowhere to be seen.
I went back up to the tree,
Where under stars you said you’d be
With me, and I chopped it down
With a dull and rusted hatchet.
I pick at my tooth abscess
Thinking of your red prom dress
The blood and pus still don’t flow
The tree has fallen, but the roots are still deep in the earth below.
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6. |
Bitter Springnight's Air
07:22
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They go down to the lake—
Fingers frozen, half awake.
A minute, old,
Broken watch that still shines gold
Stares back at them from the spot
With a cracked face. A blood clot.
One hand hiccups; a twitching tick, going belly up.
AM static sounds,
Panting hunting hounds
Live deep within
Their crushed tobacco tin.
He unleashed the hounds five years ago,
Next to a rotten willow.
As canines dined,
He shoved his hand right into their spine,
And began to invade south.
Something slithered in their mouth.
Choking on their tongue
While his left hand collapsed around their lung.
AM static sounds
And trained hunting hounds
Entered their tin,
When he stole their skin.
They caught a scent,
It smelled like his deodorant—
Just a hiker passing by,
Enough to draw blackwater from their eyes.
Old tears still shed
As painful as they once bled,
When the wounds were fresh,
Underneath their unscarred flesh.
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7. |
Tide Pools
07:07
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8. |
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The walls are dancing
Into twisted shapes.
Squinting I almost can
Find the outline of your face.
Our apprehensive hands
Brush, jump then come back
As old lines ask to be retraced.
The carpet where we sit
(Our fingers intertwined)
Darts out the window—
It’s headed for the sky.
We hold each other close—
Its been quite some time
Since we hopped the fare for this ride.
The wild wind rushes
All throughout our hair.
We start to shiver,
But find it hard to care.
Your racing heartbeat
Is locked in time with mine.
And each breath is heavier than air.
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Sam Oxford Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
(They/them)
Dreamy crescendocore for the genderqueer sadsack.
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