i put away a cough underneathe my mattress and
found drawn on with sharpie three names i dont
remember. the date says it was june, when the heat
was here to choke me with clenched fists made
of sunstroke or an albatross of stone.
but when the nighttime came in the dark i DID
remember, before a pale december and the idleness
of winter. before our drunken mornings in the blink that
was november, before my halloween and before a failed
september. i used to have a vision and i saw it from my bedroom.
with my head against the window i could come to a decision.
across the street the screendoor slammed and the ambulance
and policier were directing questions at a shoeless man, who
removed his cap and scratched his scalp and teetered from
this side to that but in the end could not recall for either one
just what he'd seen or where his adidas might be.
to slip to sleep but never fall, under the arc of a ball
one year is lost among eighteen, whether folded
in the sheets or in the creases of a beat, puckering the seams.
from Comp. 1
released November 27, 2015
callum runciman - guitars, bass, drums, synth, vocals.
alex stankovic - ukulele intro and phaser bass
all rights reserved