1. |
Cardamom Clove
03:52
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Tread the footfalls.
Fall down breathless.
Scatter petals,
Pink and restless.
Would you wander
Where the light fades?
Ultraviolet,
Sweet on new shades…
If you would sin like cinnamon,
Cardamom, clove,
Get a mouthful of sugar,
Tiptoe over the ghosts,
You would get rich like criminals
But gentle as lovers.
All creatures of sun,
Come on and turn the day over.
Dicentra spectabilis,
Lantern of hearts.
Not all who fade
Go traveling.
Not all who glow
As phosphorus
Are lost.
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2. |
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Playing it cool, or playing it dead,
Another fucker calling you a space cadet,
A hand on your thigh, unsolicited—
The blood spills the oil slicks!
Laugh at the joke, dagger the eyes—
The vitriol aftertaste of playing it nice.
Deescalate till they apologize
And go try it again with the next guy.
A parking lot charlatan, mercurial lies.
An enfant terrible of peculiar size says
“We could build anything! We scuffed up the skies!
We built this strip mall here twenty thousand times!
We did it for Jesus Hellfire Christ.”
A bird on a wire, a ripening debt,
A bit of witty banter at the laundromat,
The tick of the clock, the click of the flint—
The blood spills, the oil slicks!
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3. |
Cheap Chills
03:12
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Crack an egg over your head
Let the yolk trickle down
Stab a knife in your back
Let the blood trickle down
Hey mister,
Were you in somebody’s whisper?
Cause you seem a bit familiar,
And I think you’re good like blisters
Are on pretty spindle fingers.
What’s the value of a penny
Anymore within a world
Of many double-jawed and slipping,
Hidden, moray-hearted morals?
Hey mister, could you lend me
Better wisdom, or a token for the ferry?
I’m afraid to look within ya
But the view right through is fine.
I came to go get lost, but warn
Me when you get behind me…
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4. |
Lackadaisical
02:34
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So you fled to the greyhounds a couple of years—
Let’s say peripatetic; it sounds less pathetic
Than what’s really happening here.
Said you wanna want nothing to impress girls in bars,
Then you ran from the Void like you’d run from the wars!
Well wouldn’t you like to be something lackadaisical?
Coat down to where your shin splints go,
And crafty like a jackal—oh!
Wouldn’t you like to leave everything forgettable,
If only for a minute?
Well, you won’t be none worse for it no!
We could all be designers, and wouldn’t that be grand?
The architects kicked you around like a can,
And the chosen one stories they fed made you sore.
(They never said what the kid gets chosen for.)
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5. |
Unless
02:57
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Every lonely heart
Must have their portion of the tart,
But how the wildlife murmur thirsty
Every time it gets a little dark!
Oh don’t you startle.
Don’t you start.
Oh will you won’t you
Don’t you startle?
Look away and never feed them,
Not unless you know you’re dreaming,
And they offer you a real good deal…
Every beggar soul’s in stitches,
Patching back to wholeness,
Like it’s holy to be broken,
And what’s golden runs a little cold.
You look away and never feed them,
Not unless you know you’re dreaming,
And they offer you a real good deal…
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6. |
An Artist's Work
03:31
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You were soaked in indifference
& Staggering lost in a fraudulent
Body you altered beyond
The ease of that vandal,
The angry man’s god.
The region of the heart was made
To herd your warmth and scoop the flock
From dusted windows, brittle & blocked
With hoary cobweb mesh occluding
Splendor of a caliber to rattle & trip
A ruby-crusted king.
They named the curtains Sacrifice,
But honey, what if there were no such thing?
You got key lime pie tenderness
Where your scroll and candle sorrow
Says it’s gonna rain spiders and shadows.
It’s gonna rain shadows with minds
Like starving romantics, and edges
Like crescent-eyed winter!
Well, we were never not all gonna die.
It’s an artist’s work to know the score,
And tell an honest lie.
It’s an artist’s work to long
To become Ever Yours,
Sweet Whomever,
Yet still to keep
Oneself one’s own,
Or a little of both,
Or whatever.
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7. |
No Pressure
03:12
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Riff-raff catched
By scruff of the neck—
Oh bless you rapscallions
From now to your final breath!
Bless you all sideways
Where the wind swept,
& Bit your ankles
Clear through your kicks.
Ten below zero
Was hardly the worst of it—
Cold nowhere chilling
As what the cold meant.
Ad-astra-trapped
And rougher than rage,
But sweeter than carrion
Under the scavenger gaze,
Brazen enough to go
Dog-ear a library page,
Do us the honor of
Quelling forefathers’ ways!
A Five Years’ plan—
Hubcaps for your hearse
Can wait till you’re old & gray—
Let’s all hope (though it hurts).
No pressure no pressure—
The rest of us fucked up worse....
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8. |
Willowing
03:59
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Who would go willowing? Weeping and bent
For a darling, a day, an indulgence well spent?
Spangled and Boschean, longing to cling
To what’s gorgeous, distorted, wrong-wired, and fevering!
Ants on the peonies and under the steps,
And a snakebite to suck on. De-venom your Hesitance.
Angel, be doe-eyed and caked-in-mud Decadent.
Spit out the poison and sample the rest.
Fragrances cloying and wooded and green
Swizzled lazily, glass-locked, are not what they seem,
Like the mirror plays tricks
When my tattoos read foreign to me.
Let’s have more marginalia, less prayer in between.
Let subtext be subtle, don’t ask what it means.
Take this vellum and make it absurd or obscene,
So longs as spectacular, prismatic and glowing.
I’ve been wearing the cloak of the East.
And not only to hide in; I like how it feels.
I would rather be realer than velveteen any day,
If there’s a way to stay soft on the surface
And wooden beneath…
Then again, it’s a beast to go locating
Rabbits while pressed among leaves.
I’d rather be anywhere nearer to dearer,
If there was a way to stay solid
Without getting lost in between.
Ghosts in the willows gone casting the dice.
I might braid up my ghost in the ghost of whoever might
Bend the rusted edge of me and brush it to singing,
As lakes sing from underneath inches of ice.
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9. |
Cold As Bells
02:40
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Don’t be jealous
Of the stillness
Of a stone—
All stones have quickness,
But it’s not our place
To witness.
I can be a cold as cold as bells,
Ex-woman full of blood as
Navy blue as bells,
The ink of something deep
Out from the bones expelled.
I can be a cold as hot as Hell.
I can be a cold as cold as bells,
Un-woman full of blood as
Navy blue as bells,
The ink of something deep
Out from the bones expelled.
I can be a cold as hot as Hell.
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10. |
Feather Down
02:22
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Nature loves to feel composed
and chilling, flopped at angles,
projectile-spitting dramaturgy,
full of strange sensation, tempered
and terrible, pink and spilling.
I saw a vision of lecturing stars, smirking
above another city’s languid dialectics.
Life is a fascinating wrath-basket,
a wretched and moth-worn joker,
a nebula spilling out from cornucopia
of lacerating dreams.
Why not befriend the art in it—
Dissolve into juxtaposition?
History’s venom tingles like menthol
and store-bought forgiveness.
Tell Love we have a fist-full each of fervor,
grief, and goose down shadows.
We could make wings from queer
limbs like penumbrae, get Void-fucked
and glow on the right side of madness!
Let’s refuse consciousness.
Rest from all poison.
Rest with the weight of a stone
O’er the cavern and cloth of you,
Not with the black and blue
Crush of a toxin enshrouding a toxin.
And of gosling fever
And feather down shades,
Ever let there be
Euphoria
That tastes like snow
Before it’s spoiled.
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11. |
Lucid
04:15
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Lay me down deep
Like I could be enough to keep
Myself a traitor to the blood(y) world
Of justices, their soldiers, and their ledgers.
Trip or tip-toe down the steep hill—
The church beneath the steeple spills
A carnival of people, clamor-ramaling
Like little bees, but evil.
Sweet Cecilia, bless me lucid!
I’d gone sippin’ on the wormwood
Longer than it felt good to…
Now I see ya in the fields
Where all the French boys painted petals
With their viscera— they’ll do it again soon.
Ohhhh…
I bet you didn’t know how bad a shadow could bleed.
I bet you didn’t know how long a trickle could seep.
I bet you didn’t know how fast the gaps in between.
I bet you didn’t know how far a shadow could scream!
Lay me down deep
Like I could be enough to keep
Myself a traitor to the blood(y) world
Of justices, their soldiers, and their ledgers,
And meet me where the sleepers fall for fun.
Drag me where the cloth of dreaming
Cossets what we love!
And let me crawl
Out of me
So I can breathe!
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12. |
Wicked Corona
06:18
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You’re down begging the dust
To eclipse your love
When the light is too loud to look upon.
You got a swallow-tail tongue,
And a heart of worms,
Pathway palms and crown of wicked corona!
Wouldn’t you like rococo eyes?
The citrus of moments impossible glazes our lips.
Tell slapdash & strawberry mischief to spatter
Our horrible memories, gobble our weakness,
And spit out the pips
Like they’re trifling as the faithful were,
Dismantled in drenched inflorescence.
(Some folx love and some deserve
When violets come to drink our essence!)
You’ve gotten gooseflesh soft
To shudder under the umbra—
The kiss of no return,
The crown of wicked corona!
They caught you gawking at magnolias
And called you silly women.
They hung crinolines from the rafters,
You imagined prima donnas in ‘em.
Caught you flushing, called you scummy--
It just made you want a pond to swim in,
Rich with sludge of tumbled garnets,
Where the water snakes are gentlemen.
Let’s get Fancy like the vicious young
In crooked-gentle languor.
Go powder up and don a ruff
That complements your anger.
You’re worth the blush of waxwing,
Even bashful in your rarity.
Toss your pauper’s baubles
While mosaic tiles die to crack
The monochrome containment of austerity.
Go slink beyond experience
And peacock at your enemies!
Swallow the salt. Cling to the mud.
Fall in the light. Turn belly-up.
Eyes on your shoulders, spines on your spine,
Find you what finery gets you to fine.
Are we in poppies
Or pop-a-possibilities?…
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MockingCricket Massachusetts
Mocking Cricket is a one-man band by multimedia artist, Evvie/Evvin Marin (they/them). Gothic folk. A smoky voice & a questionable life decision.
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