C๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐
realized by
JAMES QUENTIN DEVINE
m.v.d.
๐
โถ
โI Think We Met in Setagaya (Maybe It Was Seville)โ
via the forthcoming LP
โLet the Alpine Playโ by
SCALED ALPS.
๐ฆ
TIRESOME
Watched a guy in mismatched socks.
Out in front of the grocery store.
Wasnโt really a person anymore.
Not socially.
Not so sure.
All jailhouse.
Shirtless and shitty.
Rifling through trash.
Hooting threats.
Nothing pretty.
Picking out bottles.
Looking for glass.
Busting up the biggest ones he could find.
Full-shouldered hate.
Hard as he could.
Chucked into the street.
Blown tires.
One after another.
I watched two, three, four.
Five.
No one else seemed to notice.
Barely alive.
Lost in their headphones.
All that jive and bullshit.
So of course, no one did a god-damn thing.
And the circus moved on.
Unending.
THE VILLAGERS
MAYBE,
Just Maybe,
maybe!
The Biggest Problem to fret about
is that those unembraced children,
All of โem!
Those kids?
Theyโre going to want to feel some warmth.
Keep wanting to feel some kind of warmth.
Feel something.
Theyโve come from nowhere.
And itโs where theyโre going.
Their worldโs flattened and they fold easily.
They whine and complain.
All pity and pain.
Society means nothing.
Not a thing to them.
Or worse, everything.
Despised.
Reprisals.
Whatโs built burns easily.
Whatโs burnt salts the earth.
Scorched.
Parched peaks.
There are freaks in the hills, feral.
Scattered packs and solo wolves.
Wherewithal.
There are men roasting rats in baskets.
Careless.
Falldown tragic.
A legion of lesions and busted elastic.
Mismatched slides.
You fucking idiot.
Slippering floors.
High-gloss.
Security guards and self-sealing doors.
Lungs flooded, heart hammering.
Head-light.
Lost again.
You hunger for skin.
In its caress or in crisping.
Cracklings.
Struck matches.
Torched.
Ignition excarnate.
โคต
Infernal.
โคต
MONEY
and
POWER
and
SEX.
MODELS
and
CLOTHES
and
JETS.
โคต
Mansions.
Positions possessions and purchases.
Mansons.
Obsessions
Objects and objections.
โIF I CANโT HAVE YOU NO ONE WILL.โ
And the fire starts.
All that canโt be had will not be.
Not for him and not for he.
Not for she.
Her nor they.
Eyes reflect the fireโs sway.
Fear setting in.
Ill-prepped wreck.
Counting the chairs as the flames climb the deck.
โ
BOOM.
โMOLOCH, MOLOCH.
โโBOOM.
โโโโBOOM.
โโโโโโโโโโMOLOCH, MOLOCH.
โโโโโโโBOOM.
โโโโโโโโโTransform your whole town into a tomb.