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December 2013

October 2013

not the truth but framed by it

still the same as you call it the same
presence that one has in one's kindling

two things and emotions can you feel it
two things and emotions like like can you

i hid my lyrics in the album sleeve where you
no there's not a you not a you anywhere

here the angels come in and i'm in i'm
in for the whole track right to the gap

where the track stops i'm the boy in it
while the floorboards go gradually cold

from my dancing

put myself in your place again

And written by computers copied the interstices the alleys and ifs.

And formally lost the berries the intentions the beneficial fats & cruelties.

And stocked up on many important adaptations.

And liked to live there in a confessional blaze.

And spoken and broken pica by pica into a handy mortality.

And unstoppably fixed at the cellular level.

And faced like a freaky lyric an actually sunken fantasy.

And liked the wreck of it collected and uncollected.

new tenets and notices

A way has tracks depending on how much talk's gone on. I'm in my second and my first stage of intentional clarity. Third may or may not stay. A way of flouncing leaves goes on through birds. Just like kissing birds. Solving their problems. A way full of features is attractive and brilliant now and then.