[transcribed from audio tape] 

22 december 2007

solstice plus one

i found the skeleton of a coyote 
just off the verge of the road 
i picked it up brought to the house  
put it in a bag in a box in the back

wind blowing cold 
whistling thru the wires
chilling the world
i left an offering

i don't have to come back to you
you don't even want me to 
i don't have to come back to you
you don't even want me to 

and still your name chimes like a bell 
where are we now and where are we going 
rise above it cause  you want to be on top
that many more gone now the way it is:

clutching my machine 
i follow its trickery
so cocksure
i can't quite believe it

i don't have to come back to you
you don't even want me to 
i don't have to come back to you
you don't even want me to 

is that really you in the orange backpack
with the yellow hair
i can't quite believe it
i can almost see you there

you have what we all start out with 
some strengths
some weaknesses
some handicaps 
you should bring him to your side
i truly believe that he would do most 
anything for you and that's a good thing
if a two-edged proposition
it's the new, blue 
user interface

i'll be going in soon
i wish you would come with me
i want you to
i can hear the leaves blowing along the 
pavement of the street

it appears to me that you've cast a net
perhaps you caught me by mistake 
all unintentional
i was just wondering if you'd take my call
i thought perhaps you'd be angry
because it was just too weird for me to be
calling at this hour

bear or wolf
coffee or tea
beer or wine 
it's like a game of twenty questions
do you smoke 
do you mind if i do 
what church do you go to 
it can never be i know 
it's doomed
doomed 
nevertheless 
i dream

we're living in a constant stream of 
words and images
we're living in a constant stream of 
of sensory input 

i step back out of the north wind
behind the wall 
taking a drag 
thinking of you again this morning 
as the snow flies 
out of a clear sky

clouds are pile up on all the horizons
and yet overhead the clear blue sky

i feel that i am at the center of something
which becomes an allegory
my hard drive
is filled with notes to you
that you will probably  never see
sixty gig of bits set
in anticipation of 
you and your awareness

no longer cold
despite the bluster
they say that with the onset of hypothermia 
the victim no longer feels cold as they die

huddled in my leather armour i sit
do you want children 
i'd imagine not 
but would still like to know

i want to transcribe these lines 
delivered to the vacuum 
and transmit them to you
is that what this is ?
a surrogate?

are you a mother?
the earth has come to claim me
as her own
i want to take this to the next level
level up

is that what you really want?
no, but it's an image i have 
not been able to escape
True or false:  the quality of The Fear is chill
but knowing you're dead is what kills you