1. |
Waning Song
03:43
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What’s normal?
Dreaming about it every night
Disasters happening when I leave the house alive
Begin to feel it waning
It comes again, explaining
it won’t feel bad for naming you
A struggle
Pretending it’s not our dog that’s sick
Our neighbour’s here, crying outside
he swears it’s his
It’s been six months with no word
He buried his face and misheard
when we were asking how he knew
You can say there’s nothing there
but I can see it taking form
You can tell me that it’s rare
but I know it is the norm
And these’ll soon be old habits
And if you’re tired enough of it you’ll sleep
and feel new
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2. |
Cromer, Norfolk VA
03:16
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Brighter mornings won’t decipher what you did
Wet thumbs on my eyelids
Openly speaking isn’t confessing
Olympia, WA isn’t Lessingham
Feeling things keenly is your power
I had four conversations in the shower
Only cried when I had to say it aloud
Halfway to the coast where I won’t be drowned
Cromer, Norfolk, Virginia
Speaking in riddles to reassure you
Everywhere, animals will ignore you
Your life won’t ever feel like a montage
Light has speed, but nowhere on earth is that far
Cromer, Norfolk, Virginia
Won’t ever feel like a montage
Nowhere on earth’s that far
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3. |
Foot in the River
03:50
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Carving out a new path again
and I’m passing markers with no words coming out
Two crows swoop from a tower block
one has stopped and one has carried on
Some machines seem magical from the outside
but are workaday inside
Dry your eyes on a cigarette
and we’ll let the ambulances go
It’s a bridge that only gets you half across
it’s a ridge that only trappers know
You should wait until it calms down but I can’t
Things are racing to the case
to plant
my foot
in the river
Murmurations and terminals
Changing course and the tired gathering of open eyes
Is this how it’s supposed to be?
Taking flight and moving fearlessly
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4. |
A Tree, a Rock, a Cloud
04:07
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Something got away
you’re waking up your friends
Can you hold a pint
of the river in your hands?
On the overground
a text that makes things clear
This whole train can be fixed
But the tools are nowhere near
The water’s seeping in to your bedroom
and mid-adulthood begins
Will this building gain
a portion of your health?
Will this person burn
a ghost-limb of your self?
The autumn’s creeping in
always finding ways to increase the price…
You pay to resent
But love sells itself
The ocean at your door
…what for?
This is the reason that you ought to be around
It’s an unemphatic prayer to say aloud
It’s beginning with a tree, a rock, a cloud
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Uncle Andrew Norwich, UK
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