Visions from the verge

Another Radio Song

Bless this tiny alley
we have fallen from tall buildings
we have fallen through the air
into a garden sweetly smelling
of the softest sleeping flowers
now they sit under the sidewalk
now they’re waiting for the shining
of some future sun to show us
all that is your beauty
oh, and all that brings you pleasure
I could sigh into your hide
and say I hope I’m here forever
but black sheep boy
with your lovers
with your list of favorite pillows
with your list of missing children
with the wall where you drew windows
overlooking hidden gardens
cut apart by jagged mountains
climbing up into the air
and crumbling down into a fountain
where the water waits forever
like a quiet distant treasure
when you rise up to recover
when you leave this tiny alley
when you meet me in the garden
with your horns all hung with cedar
every spirit brushing past me
brushing past them in the ether
scream all this is window dressing
all you are is flimsy curtains
watch you flame up with a word from us
and won’t know that you’re burning



(Not so) Nonspecific party in a (not so) nonspecific city.

Visited Chicago last week to see Ought perform at the Burlington Bar in Logan Square. Dub Thompson put on a great show and Ought was absolutely stellar. The lead singer even gave me and my boyfriend a shout out at the end of the show, thanking us for traveling all the way from Milwaukee.

So much goodness and so much dancing.
Pictures to follow.




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