1. |
Cold Open
05:44
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i saw my anguish reassembled outside the country of my skin. drag my cosmology through ruins / a minor history of light.
from haunted dawn to syntax error, the seismic shifts reset the years. a world of snakes bursts from a promise; a lurid pathway bifurcates.
demonology and warbles while all the algorithms run across the mountain in the mirror that slides against encoded wounds.
the flagrant moon of cold horizons, forbidden words to wake the dead, the furtive hand of viral language, a captured future full of holes.
i hope i swallow my tongue and die in my dreams.
my god is covered in dirt and dying in dreams.
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2. |
Rat Season
02:08
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rat season, i had it: The Cacodylic Eye -- i keep watching, wrapped in plastic.
sweet poison, i'll take it. a cannibal of gold -- naked cities reconsidered.
Slime Season, i see it: the skeleton of signs -- unrelenting metal blanket.
world sickness, i got it: the catastrophic dirge / hidden bodies reconfigured.
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3. |
Mock Sun
03:21
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a mangled aria on discarded scales affixed to whispers in the noxious air. i hear you bray with the Eternal Worm about the crowning of a mock sun.
an anguished piano sighs a pretzeled nerve from leaking lungs completing heel turns. i've exhausted every queering eye for one that gazes malediction.
six months married to a hollow song.
six weeks tethered to a skeleton.
six days consorting with a spectacle of dust.
i've placed a curse on everyone we know -- playing chess upon a pentagram -- and fix a demon under sheets of glass for my entire generation.
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4. |
The Human Province
02:07
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strange flower of boredom protruding from my skull / an old indolent worm. through the veil of reason, the imperceptible perforating the doxa.
netherworld-ing a foreigner, i
ride a steel horse. sing about water, sing about water.
i keep your image sacred until it cleaves in two.
i've acquired your language: quote apocalypse refrains, carve the face of your god.
an aesthetic falters. put your skin over my skin. there is no wolf like meaning.
overworlding a crowded mirror.
hear the pulse squirm, "sing without water, sing without water."
holy ghosting / imposing presence.
a human province dead in the water.
dead in the water.
i keep your image sacred until it cleaves in two.
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5. |
Carrion Man
04:22
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once in the Ring of Shadows, my kayfabe friends compared akashic records with dust they were all very human.
a sense of cosmic horror / tongues undulate, glib and diplomatic, their pockets lined with sand.
name every preset witness. tremulous nights revert to sacred terror. the dogma defeats itself.
take on the shape of ruin: an unending neck. sweet telluric surges / the future in decline.
sheltering the shadow of the storm. you knew me well.
if only you could see me now, dark ghost.
you'd turn to ash in my mouth again.
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6. |
Two Mountains
02:50
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these lacerations, they're symptomatic of an episteme coming unglued. oh, my brother, this is a swarm of swords. you'll tumble blindly through an island of hazardous waste.
my occupation requires frequent modulations on the river of time.
if you're a culture, then i resemble you: a void.
i could've waited, i could've eaten glass.
i could've tasted you in the abstract.
it went untreated for 40,000 years.
these incantations, they're throbbing wildly in the body of the violet hour.
oh, my sister, i see your velvet wounds. you'll cut the rope that seems to bind you to the dream of a cage.
my disposition includes intrinsic inclinations to have several minds,
and when i'm anxious, i just pretend i'm bored, destroy.
i should've waited, i should've fallen back.
i should've cheated and sterilized the past.
it went untreated for 40,000 years.
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7. |
Dread Lord
04:00
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it was a venomous line, luxuriating in the raw.
it was a schizogenic mess, not the assumption of form.
i felt your shadow glittering in the dungeon like an ecology that thickens with life. you'll hear a whisper in between two secrets when i'm drowning in the passage of time.
it was an army of mists, blistering through an empty set
in the season of desolation beneath in the shimmer of the flesh.
there were encounters hidden in the illusion posing a vague existential threat to the rapture of the sword of the morning when the river is instructed to bend.
my father's house is full of spiders, composites of unknown materials.
the face of god is made of mirrors, swimming naked in the air.
and so two thousand years await / a weight inside this plastic bag. i'll sleep the sleep of bones encased within a mineral. these waves begin to break -- sounds like a good example. all signals concentrate, a spell to ward the darkness off.
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8. |
Outside
06:47
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there's a wicked world in all meridians anchored to a shard of laughter surrounded by water.
i've made the choice to die a pagan suckling on a rib for energy, trapped in a crystal polyhedron.
there's a twisting tide beyond the margins. cut to: an astringent stomach, vacant and black
where the air hangs thick with insignificance that echoes in staggered octave through these decaying years.
i'll drag my pen across the subtle film between your lips.
we'll feel the program buzz through convulsing sheets of skin.
it's not the act, it's just the substance forming underneath
while we contend with loss in a language we don't speak.
striated inattention folding over nervous blessings as we tread upon the garden while informally addressing the feeling of the absence between love and death connected to the songs of minor gods that seem to vanish in the morning when the Spirit of the Forest walks across the endless evening flowering with fluids white and gold before careening into fields of vague awareness in a dancing situation moving to the dull and quiet pain of being human. perhaps when all that was is one with all that is alive we will forget.
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9. |
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i saw you navigate the labyrinth of spirits -- it's been reason without reason for far too long.
and now we're flattened at the threshold of extinction; i'll keep my crucifix inverted and foreshadowing prolonged.
in 20 years, i know i'll fracture into pieces and see my death on Midnight Mountain caught on video.
all our enemies condensed into an image that seems to speak in ancient languages and replicate the code
that was written as an interrupted sequence. there was promise in the promise, but promises don't hold.
until we drift into awareness in the darkness, we'll be contemplating ruins with everyone we know.
vaporized in a flash of light, my teeth go grey, and my hair turns white. the apparitions take my eyes when the body's been bled dry.
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Soft Limit Manila, Philippines
Soft Limit is a project suspended in a state of emergence, a repository of potential directions, in the pursuit of an affirmative, integrative practice premised on exploration and fluidity.
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