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Tiny Forks

from Pipe Dreams by Smoking Bullet

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    50% of profits will be donated to Santa Fe Dreamers Project. For more information, see
    www.santafedreamersproject.org

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about

Written and recorded in 2013, re-recorded and produced in 2018.
Thanks to Daniel Melman.

lyrics

I waveringly assembled a Tungsten waterfall behind my tonsils for the wiry stylings of dawn’s damned sunshine

(I filed down the thrift of my jawline to narrowly grip the dining plunger
Bison’s wist ferry stumbling stilted arrowheads
Ononniatrulepusk
Find true wooly ambulance fences
Clustered angles sent retrieving winds upon an open kettle’s name
A sluggish sand dune forts try wailing seven yeast
Arbitrary piecemeal erupting Lincoln nugget
Modular ant japes colossal gin succotash mausoleum)
I find myself closing tiny forks in my spare time.
(It seems dilapidated at a glance my weary musk
Strietchabuzuzzled
Aafk
Coronary fives another selfish quickening slime
Cozy tile inundated slapstick cozzasauce)

Continents congeal, my lying lover burst with hovering, ripening, astringent necklaces
Only now, then, and forevermore I cast agape my oyster sockets in light so strangled my mangled knuckles should obfuscate everything
WHY?!
She cried at last in extant moanings, living, breathing, sopping vowels ate her surly entrails
(Fitzraglatto)
Easy, I slithered. To make room for an egregious ponytail puddle
Her spilling sails swiped through analogue nose-hairs, evaporating piranhas in the tornado belching, screeching, spilling neon nose-hairs at an unmarked kite
Frankly stories elapsed anonymously despite Charlotte stifling
I wished freely as a dove, my carcass tumbled smooth as ancient stone
And then I built a tungsten waterfall in an unusual place.

credits

from Pipe Dreams, released July 13, 2018

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Smoking Bullet Santa Fe, New Mexico

Avant garde minimalist stream of consciousness world psychedelic folk poetry atonal experimental odd time mixed genre...

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