1. |
Iris
03:57
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Everyone knows
That the light in your windows
Is only a form of
Ephemeral repose
From a darkness so bottomless,
Velvety wide,
It could eat you alive,
And each night that it don’t,
What a miracle, miracle!
Then the dawn’s paintbox blush
Brushes glorious things!
Is it any surprise
How the light-mongers cling
To the bright cream of life,
Simulacra of winning,
And sweet Soma pretense
What happens come dusk
Is not happening?
All we spy open-eyed
On this side of our dreams
Gets reversed on the retina—
Not not what it seems.
Double negatives dance
Through the optics of mind.
In the cloth of perception,
Weave warp and weft true,
But the twist’s a lie.
Ooo the way you reverse
Through my eyes, then my mind—
You’re the kind of light-liar
That I like to like.
Might I twist the illusion of you
For a spell?
Might I make like the light,
Take a dive down the well
Of those seraphinite irises?
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2. |
Ain't We Got Fun?
02:48
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Every morning, every evening
Ain't we got fun?
Not much money, Oh, but honey
Ain't we got fun?
The rent's unpaid dear
We haven't a dime
But all the same dear
We’re having a time
In the winter in the Summer
Don't we have fun
Times are bum and getting bummer
Still we have fun
There's nothing surer
The rich get rich and the poor get poorer
In the meantime, in between time
Ain't we got fun?
Landlords mad and getting madder
Ain't we got fun?
Times are bad and getting badder
Still we have fun
There's nothing surer
The rich get rich and the poor get poorer
In the meantime, in between time
Ain't we got fun?
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3. |
Old Arts
06:08
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4. |
Four Bottles, Out To Sea
03:26
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Melody:
We are not a river bed.
Droplike & stretched, we shed porcelain,
Pleasing as the mirrors who would lay on the sea,
Fealty pre-sworn to the softness of anarchy—
Ancient thing, ambivalent at gunpoint
And blackening to birds.
If we’re here to fall apart,
Let’s fall apart exquisitely,
Regardless of enkindled, delusive degree.
And the muck & a gleam
Devour one another and waste.
Never let’s spill us like jelly to waves!
My heart was mollusks, transparent like they
Were poppets I parted, all staggering true,
But human & scorpion vain.
Counterpoint:
I would turn my face
Inside out for my love—
Tooth and nerve bared
For who knows who
Would find them enough.
(But I would turn my face
Inside out if enough.
Run, void-milk blood,
void-milk run!)
I would shake these bones out
To better know my love—
Know the nature of my love.
(Pretty charcoal traces
On the vellum of a drum.)
Bind this bone raft
Float us out to the sea—
Ribs over ribs under ribs
‘Neath the bowing gate of baleen.
(Black bottle, blue bottle,
Green bottle, gold bottle.)
You be the egret-bitten
River of the estuary.
I’ll be the bell(e) in the whale
On the wine-darkened sea.
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5. |
Auguries
06:53
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I’ve seen your art.
Mine flows the same.
It courses through these crooked veins.
Make blue my skin,
Make warm extremities.
What can we make
Of vague malaise
In strained, untempered, threatened days?
We saw those engines built on steam
And raised them ages
Fueled by blunt fatigue.
Fire on the heart line
Cracks along the life line
Hunger in the bloodline
Echoes through the hive mind
What have you done
To last the day?
What wicked prices did you pay?
What breadcrumb fragments of yourself
Got dropped along the way?
I’ve done as much
If not the same—
No dignity to grace my name.
Nobody makes it out alive
Or as the self-same self
From whence they came.
Lightning on the power line
Fractals in the design
Secrets in the sub-mind
Reverb on the timeline
Lightning on the power line
Cracks along the life line
Fire on the heart line
Reverb on the timeline
One last chance
To fall to bottom please—
Spare us of these rotten auguries!
Let the Void devour back the disease.
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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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