the homicidal sheen of a manager's lips
the pall on his deck, the carpet
worn down by misery, the shoes
seeping our rain, the papers
insane with figures, the fingernails
yellow and burned, cracked with
head and Keats seems petty
empty and meaningless
calling for his personal salvation
the nightingale's song
the bark off starving dogs
with flashlight meat in their eyes
running away when they're tired
yesterday
eager grabbing after on and off sun
in cool shadow under green leaves
no sense
except backyard morning into paper bag lunch
and ravines of afternoon into hiding darkness
with a break for grills that keep burning
forgotten until the porch catches fire
always waiting for the coals to call
something will be wrong soon
tomorrow
the wind, cool and promising
thoughtlessly wavers the brown tall grass
in a sunlight giving itself away
to evening, light thick and slow
the snap of a leather jacket
easily reminding you that we need to be alone
to confess our one true love for the night
credits
from The Same 12 Songs,
released November 3, 1997
Words - Jay Orff, Music - Tom Schroeder
Dave Herr - drums
Jay Orff - bass, guitar, keyboards, vocals
Tom Schroeder - guitar, bass, vocals
Karin Park made this album of spare, intensely beautiful dark pop in a converted church building from her childhood. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 18, 2022