1. |
Hurricane Matthew
05:14
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My bathtub finally clean
I climbed into the murky water
I sluiced my arms in the watercolours
Of Hurricane Matthew with my daughter
The two of us lost far out to sea
His October visit a daring to anyone
Who dared brave the storm so quickly
After she watched me cough up a lung
What did my daughter know
about me?
How could I tell her so
Honestly?
She saw real grass growing
From the drain between sighs
Of the stream of water, the pump
Waking up to my cries
The copper claws of the tub feet
Became a cow’s tasty head
The train becoming my mouth
Sipping foot soup to feel
What did my daughter know
About me?
How could I tell her so
Honestly?
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2. |
Let Me Breathe
04:07
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My lace-wrapped skin
to hold me in
will I lose my
barely-held mind?
You moved in so
fast how'd you know
how you'd hurt me
don't desert me
Why am I always expecting the best
When you so clearly are just like the rest
Watch the things I can
do with my legs
my fingers
tension lingers
It's cold down here
loosely-held fears
you know that I hate
things on my face
Why am I always expecting the best
When you so clearly are just like the rest
Pleasure it's yours
mine's such a chore
why won't you leave
just let me breathe
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3. |
Cold Storage
05:30
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I flip the scene from you to me
now I'm the clam and you're the pearl inside me
Inverted I hang here from the rafters
I'm hanging by a thread of patience waiting
Rabbits, moose part hang to dry
a sickle a receptacle for ashes
cold storage
I feel things and you won't let me envelope
I feel things and you won't let me envelope
I flip the scene from S to D
now I'm the clam and you're the pearl inside me
Me a toothless invertebrate
I'm throaty, hoarse, unable to command
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4. |
The Couch
05:28
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The couch cushions bore water marks,
spreading downward from where you lay your hair,
wet, after we walked back from the downtown rain that time.
My toes find the underside of my couch’s body.
I rub them along the erratic teeth
of staples that someone lovingly
tapped in, one layer over another.
It probably took years of some upholsterer
designing crosshatches, dashes, positive signs
only to catch in the frayed translucent apron,
ripping open the spaces between us
(the old wood
slats and sealing them up again, the spent shards
of material falling soundlessly, as if a kitten was somehow involved.)
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5. |
Eclipses
05:04
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My eyes
a set of lunar eclipses
I can't breathe
vasovagal syncope
he says it happens
he'll play doctor
I know I only have myself to blame
With his
ophthalmoscope
he checks my vision
it's gone
my eyes
a set of lunar eclipses
I can't breathe
(I know I only have myself to blame)
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6. |
Anhedonia Place
03:58
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(this is a ghost story
the feelings I bring are gone
when I told you that he was the one for me
I have never been so wrong
I have slept in late
Sleep has not been great
In some past life maybe but
I don't know if I can take this weight
There is no love story
that is not a ghost story
It was October when
I told you I loved you then
we drove in the dark down the hill
I ended back with him again
There is no love story
that is not a ghost story)
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7. |
What The Spiders Saw
05:38
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Almost to our camping spot
"the moss," you gushed, "is so soft!"
"your face," you brushed, "is so soft!"
A place where the spiders saw
I helped you pitch the tent
on a pile of ashes
a campfire, a sacrament
That's what the spiders saw
An earthly sign, I ignored,
shocked, surprised by all the dirt
on my cheek while you implored
All this the spiders saw
My body and blood this manmade trauma,
did some crows caw?
What would the ocean say?
A place where the spiders saw
Only the spiders saw
Crawling over my hands
Crawling over my hair
Crawling over my face
Crawling over my eyes
Crawling over my back, knees
(A place where the spiders saw
Only the spiders saw)
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Door Lock St. John'S, Newfoundland and Labrador
We are a two member band from St. John's, Newfoundland. Cold Storage was recorded for the 2018 RPM
Challenge.
Maggie Burton:
vocals, violin
Chris McGee:
instruments, production
... more
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