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coin locker kid – oh, perispomenon! كلمات اغاني

__it really is grotty being gritty
__what?
__the dirt and the mud. it’s all so much fun until it isn’t and you’re sunk. n0body can come dig up the bones, they burrow way deep down past squeaky squawking whispering whistlers and turn up somewhere just above the devil and his company lodged and stuck between a pebble and a stone. now all you’ve got is grot and you’re in want of a spine
__i feel somewhat removed from my spine these days. and my membrane has melted
__you’re as slippery as a glass slipper now, i can smell it. sometimes a duck just isn’t a duck
__i’m out of water
__who gives a f_ck?
__well. it’s so nice to see you again. at some point i just sorta figured you had vanished from everything. that’s what it seemed like at any rate. your letters stopped coming and i just kept writing and writing and it began to feel as if i was writing to someone else. like you slipped out of your skin and some skeleton from a crypt somewhere put your face on and muscled its own ideologies out of your mouth
__why, but such nonsense coming from the likes of you! you were the one that stopped writing, silly goose. duck duck. mucky muck muck
__why would you say that to me? i’m being serious now
__i know you are but what am i? you even told me why. you said you felt confused and you felt hungry and tired and speaking to me was becoming sisyphean. i’m not sure you had a good grasp on whatever you might have meant then, at that time
__this is strange. i have no recollection of this. must have been someone else
__everybody’s someone else to every other person. i missed it here. i missed the cicadas and the mosquitoes and the humidity and the sticky stickyness of it all. it’s just so real and it’s so now even when it’s not and outer light seeps through tears in the veil
__where did you go anyway?
__i went to a place where i could think. i must say the air here is still as acidic as i remember
__and what did you think about?
__everything. emptiness. the contours of the heart. ‘twas very cold, and in the sinecure of my mind i observed a sort of sneering pleasure at the discomfiture of the dreariness. do you find your emotions affected by the weather?
__this winter was pretty harsh. the melancholy nudged close towards depression. i felt really, really lost
__interesting. melancholy can be carnivorous; in the guise of man it is cannibalistic. at the altar of man it is deicide
__i find my comfort in it when i’m lonely. i take comfort anywhere i can get it
__sometimes i think about the time we were in the woods and i introduced you to all of the dead animals. you were quite unnerved but you were a very brave little boy
__dead animals?
__the doe and the squirrel and the fox and the b_tterfly and the broken, twisty, spindly brittle little trees. you don’t recall? your face turned as red as a firetruck! your eyes flatlined
__this is absurdity. every time we went to the woods we sat by the river and we loved to see the turtles sputtering about and falling down the hills
__the turtles were the best dead thing! you pick up the sh_ll and tip it over and it’s nothing but lovely gorgeous beautiful turtle goo juice! spills right out like liquor from the canteen, splashes on your feet and the broken twigs, green gooey sp_nk between your toes, reptilian, in your pores, makes you feel like you can walk on the water and trip and drown and wake up chewing chewy terrapins in a dusty divebar beneath the desert
__well. i reckon that’s interesting or something __
__you’re interesting! you’re like a different person yet you’ve changed not a single bit! it’s almost as if you have refused to grow on the outside, but you’re growing all wrong_way, like your head is stretching deep into your stomach, like you’re speaking with your bum and defecating through your eyeb_lls. this visage is tainted but from within, and if i were to rip a piece from you and place it between my lips i’d be duly poisoned. what’s with you?
__with me? you’re acting weird. i… my mind. it’s like i fell down a flight of stairs and __
__second story, third story, fire escape, broken window, cracked ribs punctured lung headless spineless raw meat mutilated!
__it wasn’t physical. in the slightest. my mind broke. one day i woke up in the dark and i thought i was dying. i turned on the light and i still felt dark. i looked at the lamp and it was as if someone had crucified a child but done it really good so the kid was still breathing, and dying slowly, and the panic was gone and it was just content there and the kid would never die, just stare at you with sensory phenomena distilled into a simple act of witnessing. that’s what the lamp was like. it was just so little and traumatized and staring at me in suspension. and i was like, this isn’t right
__when i went away i thought about disassociative elements. and what leads to depersonalize, at least inasmuch as your hypothetical hominid is concerned. you feel confused? pick up a glass of water and feel like you’re interacting with a prop on an empty soundstage? does a wet glass surface feel like skin to you?
__it doesn’t feel like anything. but everything feels like glass. everything is like i’m looking through glass and a window made of flesh pressing itself against a monitor with images moving around on it, in black and white, like surveillance footage, and there’s this superimposed text that flashes red and says live your life now
__wow. oh mountaintop!
__i’m lower than the valley. i’m a ghost in a cage watching a television called life. the boundary dividing matter and antimatter is like a large splinter gaping the core of me. bloodless
__the wall has shattered and the armies of unreason are spilling into your kingdom of naive posterity! ah, the loveliness of the humans, remember that drive, remember that spark, remember that sense of identification with all of this dung! it’s a tinny tin tin encasing this languid gang of sardines. so have you been clawing at the barrel then? being trampled by blinded crabs?
__i’m losing my mind…
__less the trophy of your body betray the reliability of its constituents you might take relief in considering your presence before me now. you seem… stable
__i am not stable…
__yet you are a stable. there are some horses there, and some sheep and some goat and here’s a pitcher of a milk and here’s a heap of high hay ho hay. i do remember you tied down to the bed wrapped in gauze and naked otherwise and you shake like a leaf and i know in my head that this must be what it was like in the manger with eyes upon a nasty little charlatan poised to save the world
__what bed?
__in the hospital?
__i’ve never been hospitalized…
__you are always hospitalized. you’re there right now! luckily for you i am a nurse now, i got my cna and everything. and i am a midwife and i have the keys to the medicine cabinet too, such is the reach of my responsibilities. isn’t that exciting? when you wake, you look out of the windows and all you see is a dingy brick wall. it’s like a liver dipped in wet concrete
__you just keep losing me. you’re like gastroenteritis. i feel like liquid in god’s ear right now…
__everything is liquid in god’s ear in a psych ward in a hospital my dear friend. when is the last time you’ve seen your mother?
__……. what did you__
__answer the f_cking question before i reach up your ass and pull your spine out and eat the little brain bits clinging to your skull and sh_t them back out onto your skin suit __
__stopitstopitstopitstopitstopit __
__answer me vitriolic black bile __
__she’s just bones in a box under the dirt with worms in the eye sockets. dying of famine, hunger, fatigue
__you f_ck! you forget so easy. naturally. selective
__stop it just shut up __
__why do you believe your mother is dead?
__she is. that’s because she is. i opened her mouth and her tongue was blue and there were all these bits of uneaten sandwich staining her t__th and it smelled foul as __
__well water of course!
__but water doesn’t smell like anything
__yes. but sometimes a duck is not a f_cking duck! your feet are just so wet like the behinds of your ears now, aren’t they? you ever wonder why your feet are wet upon dry land?
__well i guess i never really thought about it until now. it’s like i’m standing in secretion. this is very odd
__yet you believe your mother is dead. you’re full of such fun my dear friend!
__it is really wet. but i’m dry. so whatever. i remember when i came to the house and she was sitting on the bed naked, sucking on her thumb. i freaked out and she asked me why i was upset. i’m glad she’s dead
__remember when you threw a chair at your mother at one of your father’s dinner parties? he was celebrating yet another momentous occasion of literary conquest! good times
__we’re wasting our time with vapid bullsh_tting. what is this music anyway? is there a cassette tape deck out here __
__oh and oh and oh the dead! to wonder who and where they are. do you know we often find negative in others the things we most dislike about ourselves?
__but… i’m alive
__and we tell ourselves sweet, sticky gooey bedtime stories to guide us through the night and starve off disconcerting images. one time, i told myself that there was a little woman with wings who gave me money for every tooth that fell out the cradle of my mouth. another time, i told myself that a pale demon with a great beard took little bad child_things and stuffed them into a woolen sack for their transgressions. another time i told myself a man on a stick died for my sins and if i put my faith in him i’d be whisked away towards the first star to the right and before the morning came i’d be free, and i’d be free before a h_llish h_llscape transpired in the material domain. the innocence of humans is a cesspool of disappointment
__i’m sorry i disappointed you
__you will never disappoint me my dear friend. for it is with you i’m on this path and as one we will dance into a night far darker than this
__i didn’t want the horse to drown
__everyone deserves better
__sometimes you escape the world
__pretentious acrimonious flesh puppet mulch
__sometimes you escape the word. and in its wake are these little codes and these little clues and they’re flat and blow around in the wind and your words are like… petals from the flowerbed of…
__of what?
__of a god
__mwahahahahaha. oh… perispomenon! whatever. at the risk of any accusation of pretension, i’ll put myself out there and say that for the record, i think cassette tapes are super cool! but it doesn’t matter. not really now not anymore

__
with an artifice p_ssing diesel fuel
the boundary remains undefined
where the crevice is kissing bl__dy stool
the enemy sustains, underlined

__
of a god

- coin locker kid

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