1. |
That a Boy
02:26
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2. |
Waltz #10
04:07
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If ever a pasture was greener to me, she grows in the back of a restaurant kitchen. Dishing out dishes and platters between serving up jokes through the laughter and steam. Speaks like a sailor and spits like the rain, proud as can be beneath blackened old britches. I was the plates and I put them in place, and every Tuesday we do it that way.
But some night, I'm gonna grab her arm and twirl her into the dark; and come out with the things I want to say-- heart, head, and hands-- Vanessa, that's what's in the pan.
She got a Mom who died some years ago, and as a result, hell, there's nothing worth proving. Carries her shoulders as weightless as the mountains of orders that pour in. All of us workers we turn to the door, as she marches forth, glazed over and certain jobs don't exist when made a game, and that makes the cloudy faces dissipate.
But some night, I'm gonna grab her arm and twirl her into the dark; and come out with the things I want to say-- heart, head, and hands--
Vanessa, that's what's in the pan.
So send me a signal, a smokey old sign. I'm a minimum wage on a minimum line; and why's there always three women to every one? The one that you see, sing about, and dream of.
Woke up this morning with spatula arms in blankets of aprons with ramekin patches. Looked in my wallet and found a bundle of leftover steel wool. Kicked at my bedpost-- a rusted spoon-- and my blood ran in bubbles reflecting Vanessa waltzing her way down memory's drain, so I rubbed my eyes and decided again...
Some night, I'm gonna grab your arm and twirl you into the dark; and come out with the things I wanna say-- heart, head, and hands--
Vanessa that's what's in the pan.
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3. |
Lampstands
03:26
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4. |
Ketamine Crawl
05:19
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5. |
Elwha
05:17
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6. |
Bitspeck
03:16
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7. |
All Goes Down
03:18
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8. |
Inciting Politeness
03:16
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9. |
June/July
04:17
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Meanwhile the sunrise sits there like a time-shared doghouse in the backwoods of home. Half-erected, heavily slitted where morning rays pour and light two silent bedfellows-- side by side are June and July.
June's a whisky drunk hell-bent shiner, he toils 'til ten every night. And with a punch card he cuts out for the lunar changeover and turns to neon signs singing, "I'm the longest love you'll ever find." But it ain't worth a scene without July in the wings.
And man she gets anxious when June gets so loaded and paces the floorboards, and rightfully so, she's a sight to be holding signature thunderstorms. And lo, when she sings and cackles it cracks the sky. But it ain't worth a peep if June went to sleep.
Well, the first comes on kitty paws, last like a buzzards "caw" and life's a wild kingdom of fun-- so drink it up and spit it out in pretty words from a pretty mouth 'cause you're never gonna hit thirty-one.
July mumbled as June turned and groaned. Neither could say where August was headed.
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10. |
Long Train
04:25
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11. |
Broken Sunlight
03:11
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Gregory Rawlins La Grande, Oregon
Born in Bremerton, Washington.
**************
Member of Sons
of Guns (Seattle,/La Grande) Catskills
(La Grande)
and Foxgloves (Oregon)
**************
I love bonfires, books, the wild, fireworks, song & snorkeling in the Hood Canal in August.
... more
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