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Lower voices moan let stir what draws you through the waiting door --
adherents of the human blur in noise and movement till they move no more.
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6. |
Philip Fournier - A Find
04:56
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Satisfied & Ceremonious, Unstoppered bottles spring requests
That he might when lonely see us, This way alter his duress.
It was a find, this morbid season, For drawing out a mirror mind
And replenish waning reasons With recirculation of his kind.
Coming to the end of summer, Recollection's softer days
Never beast enough to plumb her Purgatorial morning haze.
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Sickness stills the heedless motion
Some old decision set to bind the days into years
Racks of stained bones spined and standing still
But you can't see them till you're blind.
Listing between a childhood I hardly own anymore
And a now between the ache of holding back
The mind waiting so long to be born
And the consolation behind the bar
Like rain over the graves
In the flood
This day's done.
I didn't see the surface closing over me
Lifting up so high -- I'm sinking so deep
Then the thrown stone and the mirror breaks
And I know that I can't breathe.
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