Wednesday, October 18, 2017

Moses Sumney, Run

He’s practically bleating like     a   felled    killer    of    sheep.  I   listen  like  I’m    auditioning   to    join    and  I  am.        All my friends     high         on  ketamines    and I’m  starving   the grass    to    protect   it   from    them.   Nitrogen    slender   trojan      horse     hearse    and  hearsay.   Use  protection.  The skin  of   pigs     wet   with    obedience.  Said  no   so   many   times    it    was   like    begging.      Like   what  they    call  negative  capability   meaning,  I         didn’t   know    I   was   capable   of   begging     even   for   my   life     we cannot  be lovers      repeatedly  like   the  least  shy   accusation            begged      true to tribe      and   deregulated    ship   capsized    and   so   many     refugees     alighted   escaping     what   we  shape into likely   stories.    Frivol    and    revolvers          salt     in    the   sky     trying   to  blizzard      and         If    somebody    doesn’t    cry    soon           there      won’t    be    room     in    the      sea               for   Moses    and       me.      This   scream   is    functional.     In  that  way.     A   matter   of  populating   the   landscape          colonizing      it     with     evidence    of     Solomon        who     flies         at     the      end        to     render     beginning                 having   hidden       from    himself.  Having stopped looking, becoming what he needs to see, pitifully triumphant.    That’s   not    what    I  meant     by   use   protection.      No      no  no    no    no      no    no     no    no    no    no              I   demonstrate     or    turn    it    on         and he’s   hugging     the   horse’s    stomach      feeding     it        a      question      scraping    his    answer   across   a   Finnigan     situation     Finna  Finnagen   again     finna    wake   up    I   meant                 This     is     the   kind     of     music    you     can         taste            acrid        with   the  lucky   intensity         of    bulls         when     we   see      red          on     a    lover’s      brow          get    rowdy       retreat          He’s     practically      peeling    the   world      past      this      sleepy       crypto   fascist    what      does      that       mean       doom      grab          the      houses      have   been   leveled     or    unveiled       they     aren’t      houses       they’re    a   battlefield     begging   for sailors        Alert   as   clay      in      last subway     car       with     the     wax   apple     and   the    razor          and   the    babbling    white    girl     he  takes      as   reparations         penance        prey      a slender     indifference     when   she    stabs    him      in    the   stomach            as    if     that    was     the   plan      all    along