an incredible work by Samantha Lucero, you should read this now!
It’s no comfort knowing that you’re buried,
deep down, taking earth around you
like blankets that fall apart and crawl.
But seasons still disrobed like actors
backstage in a play, in front of
everyone. Even with you
gone, the world moved on.
And I watched. We all did.
Forced to watch, without you,
with seasons pouring the years
between us in vanishing old flannel,
smelling like Salem filter kings,
Spring grew through us both
like a blade.
And you died in the summer.
A diamond in that box
they buried you in, deep down,
where you fall apart and crawl, too,
by now. Still waiting to be proposed,
like the plan to go back to Santa Fe.
Sometimes I wait for you to show,
maybe at the movie I go to alone,
sitting next to me when I peek over
in the flickering dark.
You could come around a…
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There used to be a lake here but
it too is just drained now. I may have once
been a ghost of water
able to enter and exit places without recognition,
able to touch a mouth and not leave a
taste or a mark – just
the sensation that something has been there
to calm a need.
Some days now I’m more just the spirit
A ghost of smoke
A ghost of echoes
A ghost of ghosts
And I could truly be of the same amount
of use. My grass is overgrown.
Hasn’t been cut in weeks and I just
don’t give a damn. All my guitar strings are dead.
My Social Distortion vinyl skips on all my
because that’s where I’ve accidentally placed myself
My fingers pressing in involuntary, pushed
by the weight of all I’ve done and failed to do.
I’m so full…
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new folk electronic experimental shoe gaze indie
rock gray sunshine white noise feedback
70 hours a week
job that is eventually
we will make
without any parachute