1. |
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2. |
Rang Dizzy
04:45
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I remember being final and free
bummed a quarter
the bookies were stuck laughing
never abroad I’m chewing on a loosie
dragging brain drain of your choosing
folks dodging
singing karaoke of credit
blanks enter my skull
into walls of your apartment
square footage with my hands and i am sightless
dealers shuffle zen gardens in the card deck
I am wise
I am so fried
rang dizzy inside
fuck me I’m alive
cast iron curls up a think for me
presented to the crowd
remains invite only
sucker for a fossilized purple bruising
I inhaled pure carbon like a movie
each Wednesday I load my boot with a beast
state flag on newsprint but optics take the lead
snapshot of long-form winded by the breeze
fake gas pump for photo opportunities
I am wise
I am so fried
rang dizzy inside
fuck me I’m alive
All duties paid to the Uncle Sam of losing my shit
we aren’t on nick name basis
but social setting allows
I extend my hand to all probable possibilities
that I may be baptized in seltzer from glaciers
as the cherry water runs down my spine
I recall coupon codes from minimum wage jobs
unionized by labor kept in sheep skin
saving up for tires that light up when you drive them
she was a real cool hand in the icy figure eight
my dreams were projected on national monuments
I sat in the lawn wondering “should I dose again”?
or just break into song with Illinois flowers
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3. |
A Lenticular Slap
07:49
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constable
someones’ faking their disease of empath winding
into mother's arms are bowing
sketch lightly
grazing grey on veins
lowball craving
for my hubris
collecting bare bones but I’m undressed
any lead with deep pockets will do
stitching corroborates with half truths
venerable
someone’s ranking up their retreat with good men dying
into panicked waters drying
sketchbook charcoal
and I can’t trace daylight
it only refracts when shocked blind
on smoke break breaths snow, sniff, sneeze, and lines
any work release isn’t true
an egghead breaks their mantra and converts to awful
a lenticular slap
to the cross eyed seeker
the bridge written off the map
news crawl from a goddamn tweaker
I faked injury
call off the bottom feeders
bent rules of ritual
as fact from a deceiver
uncanny
weeds begat a mandolin strung out on faith-works
splintered into seeds are showing
under tongue
patterns upchucked from downstream
a pack a day throat that sings the blues I sing
transactions cashless its collection call rings
on the other end I’m shaking shivers
taking requests for queue of givers
garden mulch
turned over to see a dead arm reading weekday selections
from the world is agreeing
can’t sniff lightly
palpitations tick on time
I only wanted one and that was gonna be fine
mary mother of crack rocks the sun comes through the blinds
on the other end I’m shaking shivers
taking requests for queue of givers
a lenticular slap
to the cross eyed seeker
the bridge written off the map
news crawl from a goddamn tweaker
I faked injury
to call off the bottom feeders
bent rules of ritual
as fact from a deceiver
hold onto the loose ends
hold onto the loose ends
hold onto the loose ends
hold onto the loose ends
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4. |
Axis Bent
04:19
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course in fable
faked by still lightning
In search of of able
cut my hand
trying to reach into
low talk of
heard the cross that you hung on had cable
midweek adverts for joint pain undermine your salvation
loose walk
when I wrote the song would breathe
it was the best I’d ever had
jammed up on axis bent
was the sidestep of relief
blank and jotted
first wind of capture
i was learned in the back rooms
of park facing housing
ox marked
my lament and possibly rear view
bottled in one parts friend
the other gold muse
fuck truth
when I wrote the song would breathe
it was the best I’d ever had
jammed up on axis bent
it was the sidestep of relief
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5. |
Clad With Bunk
05:32
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clad with bunk
ironworks inwards
if you ever need a friend just call
any penmanship can be written off
spare tire distilled
makes one eye turn grey
bed of lavender makes me cough
can any watchword bury the top
I was due disaster in Driggs somehow I didn’t fall off
would like to think I was saved by the way
sun gets better in the flatlands
man is better buried there
twine in navel
ghostly thread bleeding thumb
new craft inflates us all
can any takers tear down a wall
sunken favor
floats in servitude
days off at the night shift
kaleidoscopes sockets ablaze
immortal shit head with soft bowel problems
finds god has smoked rock
iced tea cans burnt in a bonfire
littering is clutter is cruel kindness is bad betting
pointing fingers with trapped hands inside
sand is better served there
I take a glass of twine knots
I’m a locked in stogie with a ventilation jam
think the fix is in bricks with stilts on a stand
cop out for the break out I’m a star on demand
in fact I was given restitution with bumps on flat land
carried in a cut thumb rotting from my hand
crept on a light shadow married to fourth in command
breath short from a chain smoke cooked in a beer can
grabbed gallows slashing in the inner working stands
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6. |
Pond Scum Ocean
07:09
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crossed words
in a canyon folded
the bar flies bite my dust
drown at life water
sunspots for fodder
jump into
pond scum oceans
I can’t wait until I die
walk a victory lap
around the whale shit tombs
and the carousels sting my corneas
in fact the sight of spinning makes the world seem slower
if I only gave to charity more often
the city streets would have a spit shine that is glowing
turned off the left brained rover
take yours shoes off inside
I’m a case of cold
when the bonfire sparks
baseline when the frog juice boils
I paint smog in the sky
with Horse tail comb
dope mattress alone
and the carousels sting my corneas
in fact the sight of spinning makes the world seem slower
if I only gave to charity more often
the city streets would have a spit shine that is glowing
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7. |
Shiva With Dustpan
05:38
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I’m so rosy and it's a chore
still get my rocks off shooting stones
blank entry form reads like last rights
left Andalusia on totally fucked up terms
walk my cobbles
ash anywhere
Shiva with dust pan
collect no fare
housekeeping
for hard sleeping
diva with octaves
sings national prayer
nice digs you got here on hell’s ocean shores
second hand smoke burning through the earth’s core
gave birth inwards and you took another life
eyes roll in the back of my head to see a bank foreclosure inside
walk my cobbles
ash anywhere
shiva with dust pan
collect no fare
housekeeping
for hard sleeping
diva with octaves
sings National prayer
I cough up up a lung in a dry heat
drops from an ice house, sands of impurity
carried a basket full of anything in arms reach
collector of denial, postmark guarantee
fortnight take-home is a packet of seeds
grows in my brain stem
pushing out weeds of entropy
walk my cobbles
ash anywhere
Shiva with dust pan
collect no fare
housekeeping
for hard sleeping
diva with octaves
sings National prayer
sit up straight for slouched ring burned into canvas
beg and choose in the land of opposition
I declare a happy birthday to every mouth full of shit
willed a table for ten and put your feet up on it
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Ryley Walker New York, New York
Guitar and sometimes sing when the people want it.
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