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brutal brilliant words


brutal brilliant words | interviews | reviews | misuse of power | comics | connecting flights

moments held in time and space.

i radio heaven...i get mixed signals.

The new [Matt Traxler]

Oh you're a joy to talk to, yes a sweet joy. With your crooked eyes, and silly lies. They entertain on these late summer days, they like to threaten autumn, with cruel greys and chilling rains, they never knew the love we've shared on deadened leaves, and muddy knees. Out of my head with glee, out of the sad things to think. Instead it's only us, with the hands of God, sad hands that we make believe are mocking us. Knowing the truth should never hold us back. We're far too reserved with our eyes, and careless with our words. When the angels came to steer, oh how you cried, and if you remember I just sat in that chair with the brass tacks and green. Minnesota highway tries to carry us about halfway with her evergreens and lazy lakes. The shaking hands and barefeet in water, I should have liked to breathe that water to never breathe again. I forgot that thought quickly remembering the joy that is living, and the joy that is living in pain, and the joy that is lying in water, held up by fish and God, and somersaulting weightless, grabbing ankles and blowing bubbles. And for the joy that is in your name. Come on sister, sing with me. These last days are so moving, so soothing. With a shout "Hah!" we could yell without limitations on our voices, and dance defiance into the rich kids. They make me so sad, the ones with everything, they'll never know the art of glass bottles crashing hard on brick walls and the fist fights with second graders who are in love with shaken stomachs, and sweet teeth. Like a whisper the truth gets louder on a quiet street, we've got them all beat, we've got the beat, we've got the time to give the time, we're breaking down the crooked lines, and falling in love with the ugly girls.

i'm kind of scared to ask what's wrong this time
i thought i gave you my second-hand map
it should've been easy to follow.
i took NJudah to the end of the line and the beach has never felt colder than tonight
when i know you're growing ten years older
and i'm all the way out here with no control
nothing for me to do but walk back home.
i knew it was a dangerous thing but if we all lived surrounded by shatterproof glass we'd never feel anything.
but i admit that this beach has never been colder than tonight when you're back there growing ten years older.

sand beneath your feet [ryan walker]

we once had such common grounds to lie on
fields of green grass underneath our slowly pacing feet
we once had such common grounds to lie on
when our eyes looked up
not at the stars but at the one who made them
we once had nothing in common except
the grounds on which we would lay
now telephone calls of musical conformities
go nowhere
because your grounds have been broken
you still want to play in your sandbox
and youre burying yourself in castles that will crumble
and mountains that will be washed into the sea
come lie in the grass with me
because tonight darkness wont prevail

I wake up lonely [Heather Devera]

"Can you come over?" She just woke up from a nap. The wooden floors made a blushing impression on her cheek, but she paid more attention to the pain on her breasts and neck. She did not mean to fall asleep on the floor, but it was too hot on the sofa. She heard a click on the phone, but knew he would come. She moved slowly, stretching her arms to the ceiling and arching her back. Her hair was disheveled. One yawn, then a deep sigh.
He rubbed his eye and thought he was dreaming of her voice. But he remembered hanging up without saying anything. And goodbye was what he thought of saying. He scratched the back of his head and wondered how and why he longed for her taste. He moved like a robot, not wanting, but wanting.
There was no traffic this time. He saw people moving, and felt the music vibrate his skin. He dug into the passenger seat for a mint. The light turned green too soon.
He knocked on the door and heard her mumble. Unlocked, he stepped inside and took of his shoes. He knew she wasn't sleeping. No hello was necessary. He slid to the floor and smelled the back of her neck. They would lay there for a while. His arm around her waist. She slept best this way, never asking for much, just the comfort of a man's arms around her. It was the safest feeling she knew. The only feeling that left her dreams full and heady.

i want to make these mannequins crack a smile, but no such luck.
can't find a grin to warm my hands over in this windy city.
could someone decipher what is here that drains the laughter from every last soul i meet?
i even find myself uncharacteristically dragging my feet.
you would want to see this moon peer across the water and sing its lullaby if you could imagine the stillness but if i have to do it alone i will.
and if i have to smack this entire population of 80,000 into consciousness then i want to try or else they're going to make me die right along with them.
today was another space with an empty answering machine and a larger than life daydream while i can hear every word from the girl next door and each sound turns to static encoding questions i've no answer to.
all the saccharin rumors they gave me leave a bitter film on my tongue.
whose joke was this anyway?

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