from The Claire Bitch Project
*
Too bad in the sun the story is the same
over here they try it again
That’s all alright
perfectly the same
old time
twice on the wind
Outside
the plane silently overhead
What are you doing? this swing is
Warm
prick the old fire
This space all over is
Quiet for some reason
fast over there
Come back
Don’t stop in the
At the same time i’m leaving
How to accommodate this
big as ever
Expand
to fit you
and you are all the space
There was never
Outside i’m waiting for help
Your hand over my mouth
My head
Next press into me
I’m on the only road I’m some
monster
I’m about to run out
into the dark
I’m a dark top
And the talk is the problem
Once around
twice
The pressure suspends on
what freed it
the sound goes somewhere
*
somewhere and it’s back
cover your hot head
The sun
on the outside of your room
the sky in disarray
The rock on the roof
you’re some
other Creature
distant sin
Sane now the red spirit
moves faster
Wind picks up
Face together the wind
And i said on the other side
i’m red
and i’m waiting for to grow
I’m a brick in the distant weather
you don’t want to change
You don’t want to say you said that
but it comes back
As you move you move so slow
you move So much more than me
*
at the end you start
to move Forward
and he’s back in the white car
In the dirt on your road
before we never had enough time
and now the spirit is moving to the other side
That’s a little rabbit on the road
That’s a little bit more that you expected
The morning on the other
Fasting getting small
in your eye
Getting small before bigger
things come out to get it
The other little special other
on the road to your home
That i can feel you behind me
the reason you check over your shoulder
and the light comes on
you’re here
take this hand
against my mouth
my face
a little wider than expected
Than expect we come together too often
not breaking
things out my window
My widow on the mend
in the bend in the river
that’s an elbow
On the shoulder
And my left eye can look back
I think you don't expect me
and i’m here
On the other hand it’s getting later
The thing i stop having
to my pleasure
bad things
on the other end
And bad little creature
my head
I can’t hear you anymore
I can’t hear where you’re moving to
But i feel the whole place shake again
under my feet the grass grows
even through dirt
Even in the white light and the landscape
is always the same
The static coming
Louder Phone
and book
after book about time
Water was toxic and dust
was kicking up
and the town left for another town
and we are here now
Making a little image of it