view from the porch: a rotting pumpkin, cooks in the light, his face is falling into his face, the eyes are creeping down to the mouth, guts spilling out
eventually it starts to stop being dark.
street floods with cool blue Almost Morning, just me and the local skunk
till a cat passes, haunting his
path. crack-of-dawn runners trickle in, awake and in
motion and on purpose.
when the work-walkers crawl from the woodwork it’s
different. they’re more like the sun, here but not quite
Here yet. obligation-shoved from warm safe wherever-they-were.
their blood too thick & too slow, & it shows.
day seeps in.
a sock
thread by thread
grows soggy from one missed step.
the brighter it gets, the harsher the bleak, and still my body buzzes at me.
traffic competing with heartbeat.
flies start to circle apples hours in to their new lives sitting on pavement. among the potholes- count them all. outnumbering you. feeling small.
would share this album with a gnome if i ever got the chance and i think the gnome would say, “this is just what the world sounds like to me normally” bug
Gaelynn Lea won NPR's Tiny Desk Contest, and it's easy to see why. Haunting, beautiful country songs, laced up with weeping fiddle lines. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 3, 2016
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