Bedtime Because I’m Bankrupt sliding down this fretboard for hours, children from choo choo to chop chop they passed by the cow on the veranda or the spider with the housefly – that was not theirs and neither are we who pass in glass trams or only by the polestar – in the end, where was the bridal canopy? only one home among them was in the smoke, the village was his step, he knew, above all others under the migration, the smoke of villages where the wild geese moved without any weather around. put me on ice and make me count, he said i could drown in an inch of holy water now for just a terabyte of sleep and a like. yes! they pump the dust like the smell out a subway down your head do not flush like diverted traffic what your mother will say i’ll be back on my feet, an inflatable man, in no weather at all.
Soft Launch
This is track 8 from Soft Launch, 22 poems based on 22 music tracks each based on 22 loops of a single sample.