rattle the quaking
by c}{imps 8 my ears
- 01. velvet lips twitch 2:00
- 02. crushed under the weight of their own horses 1:02
- 03. nostalgia wants us sickly 3:08
- 04. dress your absence 3:58
- 05. swerve around picnics 2:32
- 06. hello kitty steering wheel cover 1:32
- 07. at the end of this long moan 1:57
- 08. all you see is a cliff 1:35
- 09. we bleed for ideas 2:57
- 10. a cat meowing 1:35
- 11. eight crossed i's 8:58
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velvet lips twitch
Uploaded .
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2
Lipograph
Neutrinos fall through matter
like shadow.
Velvet lips twtch.
Graveled edges blown onto
dry stone capillaries,
a knife out of water.
Compressr/sustainr
expresses sounds roundr,
explicit –
rattle the quakng,
bristle the low-bush.
Fresh coat of fur – matted
with blood – dark well
in a hailstorm, cracklng
indigo hole in neon sky.
You have a praise kink –
it is difficult now to speak of poetry,
or anything else – how
can I say how it feels, when
to observe xcludes attention.
Lipographer, your ratio
is unexpected – so much text
bears down – rooted
in signal through noise.