Side A: Track 18-20
XVIII. Living Dead
I.
that summer the reservoir receded baring her skin of stones and weeds underneath
the humid breeze pulled resinous pine tree air through the grey hover —
there won’t be rain.
have mercy
II.
pull the shirt over my head summer bruises & freckles
the marine layer seeps & curls salty speckles clinging the air —
heart sounds like waves beating a far-off shore.
if you mean no harm XIX. Take me As you Please
burns away the cold
the October sun yawns gold through coastal brushes and oaks before slamming bloody orange over royal blue waters and black cliff arches
green flash chasers: bound to the 1 until Big Sur
much later the thick forest night absorbs the car without hesitation.
you arrive with the trees, stand with the quiet, while the fire eats away at the logs in an encrypted pattern. i think it’s high time for a hike to who knows where.
i didn’t know i was waiting up, but when you stepped by my side into the darkness
for just a moment i could have sworn it felt right. XX. …Slowdance on the Inside
check every knot and strand for frays careful now
careful as ever beware!—this one will taste a bit reckless.
smell ozone lingering the grey hover, waiting for lightning,
gamble or play the odds, this bleeds like betting it all.
watch me try my singed best to save the rest, what’s left
to save the last dance cross my heart and hope to














