the drums oh the drums the heat everywhere around you surrounding you admiring you i am a dreamer a drifter here today gone tomorrow i work in a sideshow i am a clown in a tragedy i sell sea shells by the sea shore this hot night of all nights catches me out i am oppressed and burnt the darkness offers no cool my feet heat up my heart drowses in its stolid chambers my brain sluggish in its stew of memories my dream of sanctuary…..
slightly underwater
the drums oh the drums
the heat
everywhere around you
surrounding you admiring you
i am a dreamer a drifter
here today gone tomorrow
i work in a sideshow
i am a clown in a tragedy
i sell sea shells by the sea shore
this hot night of all nights
catches me out i am oppressed and burnt
the darkness offers no cool
my feet heat up
my heart drowses in its stolid chambers
my brain sluggish in its stew of memories
my dream of sanctuary…..
the voice of god is almost silent drowned out by thunder the chatter of women the brute guffaw of man the groaning beasts pounding of the surf life thirsty for flesh pulls on a suit of bones fell angel green alligator archer fish little tiger all move within existence and its ellipses heir to these pre-existing conditions yet somehow every creatures mask hides a tiny unique aspect of the one the one who can be barely glimpsed the one who is everywhere but nowhere to be found genius god idiot god god of everything as everything is in god you cannot put him in a book he will not be contained within a myth he will not be killed upon a cross he doesn’t favour one crowd over another why do i call him he? god is not male god is not jealous god is not remorseful or ever angry my god is an artist spreading himself over galaxies he shows himself in everything its more obvious than obvious maybe why we don’t see it god sings up the worlds they flow from his pores god never toils god never rests his language is simple like the wind in the fields his language complex like the fragile multiverse in immanence time beyond time folded in on itself a layer of dreams and illusions the dance of maya shrouds us in mystery we struggle and thrash against unseen foes we imagine the worst in defeat and in triumph we’ve gone so far off the track but which track was that..? what am i saying exactly i’d like to know… i’d like to know who puts all these words in my head i’d like to know who guides my hand on my axe i’d like to know who my children used to […]
fable
the voice of god is almost silent
drowned out by thunder
the chatter of women
the brute guffaw of man
the groaning beasts
pounding of the surf
life thirsty for flesh
pulls on a suit of bones
fell angel
green alligator
archer fish
little tiger
all move within existence and its ellipses
heir to these pre-existing conditions
yet somehow
every creatures mask hides a tiny unique aspect of the one
the one who can be barely glimpsed
the one who is everywhere but nowhere to be found
genius god idiot god
god of everything as everything is in god
you cannot put him in a book
he will not be contained within a myth
he will not be killed upon a cross
he doesn’t favour one crowd over another
why do i call him he?
god is not male
god is not jealous
god is not remorseful or ever angry
my god is an artist spreading himself over galaxies
he shows himself in everything
its more obvious than obvious maybe why we don’t see it
god sings up the worlds
they flow from his pores
god never toils god never rests
his language is simple like the wind in the fields
his language complex like the fragile multiverse in immanence
time beyond time folded in on itself
a layer of dreams and illusions
the dance of maya shrouds us in mystery
we struggle and thrash against unseen foes
we imagine the worst in defeat and in triumph
we’ve gone so far off the track but which track was that..?
what am i saying exactly i’d like to know…
i’d like to know who puts all these words in my head
i’d like to know who guides my hand on my axe
i’d like to know who my children used to be
before they were rolled back into this world
reincarnation i take it for granted
we have all lived before we will all live again
we die and we die but what does it mean?
i’m only a poet i really don’t know
i only know how to make the words rhyme
i ask all the same questions all of the time
love is the answer i hear someone say
so profound to be meaningless
what should one love?
love a god you never can see?
whose voice is so nearly silent in your roaring heart
who people blame for all stupid things
dont blame the bloodthirsty popes on god
the ones who cut off peoples noses for jesus christs sake
dont blame god for the crusades and jihads
he must laugh his socks off at conceits such as these….
do you think that god smiles as he looks upon earth
and sees the slaughter of the dumb beasts
dumb in that they can’t plead for their lives in spanish or english
or in japanese or hebrew or arabic or french
blood on our hands
knee deep in filth
we hammer out the brains of gentle cows and lambs
we invent new ways to electrocute chickens (oh how fucking noble?)
we clog up rivers with clotted gore and guts
we breed misery and anguish in pens and cages
just to bring people meat
i wonder if god thinks that thats kosher?
i wonder if god thinks thats mercy in action…?
i wonder if it says in some bible its ok….?
i wonder if some tosser in 400 BC
had some religious rationale for the killing of beasts…?
i really must smile at the ridiculous notion
that a god who created this unimaginable creation
so perfectly strange
as if this same god
this titan of craftsmen
this nebulous spirit that works in vivid matter
would see this or that tribe stumbling about in some land or other
and give them carte blanche to do whatever they liked….?
how convenient is that?
but what about everybody else….?
oh baby no one gotta mortgage on god
no bishop dressed up in foolish buffoonery
fresh from the wine and fine food
covering up dirty secrets that keep leaking out
you really think
that the one god is trusting his secrets to turkeys like this?
or to terrorists or klans or idiots a’knocking on yer door
trying to sell you some preposterous story about boney moroni
phoney baloney
do you really think thats how things go down?
do you really think we have the capacity to understand even the smallest bit of this
all meat is murder
all bombs are terrorist
all wars are sordid butchery of our finest young men
you really can’t trust the people in power
most are the worst the very worst you could find
we see that over and over again in history don’t we…?
its a shame history isn’t one long uneventful boring old yarn
where nothing nasty ever happened no glorious wars
no one invaded none put to the sword
no firing squads no napalm no spears
no stukas no lockheed starfighters
no missiles pointed out into space
no hannibal no napoleon no caligula no bush
no mao tse tung no kaiser bill
no richard the lion heart
and none of the rest
what do they ever do but get us killed?
i preach take it easy
i preach let it go
i preach don’t drink vodka cause it will ruin you so
i preach get SKP so i can make some more dough
i preach because who will if i don’t….?
will anybody?
NO!!!
galaxy shoes says aurora man i’d love to get me some of them galaxy shoes galaxy shoes says scarlet emphatically from behind galaxy shoes says a chorus of voices oh yeah those galaxy shoes behind the wheel i’m driving my hard bargain we travel over brook and stream we see an eel under an old tree we traverse sydney day after australia day summer after summer suntan on suntan evenings beheld in deepest delight the quickening trees withhold a rustle ‘pon approach the warmest nights down by the shore the translucent sea becomes thee i command this night to bring forth its fruit some strange bloke n his bit of fluff some shop we wander into emerging clutching parcels years later well we skid along under these neon beach lights where the parking police have been trained in some remote desert camp their hard hearts do not break so easily but never mind it is tomorrow bondi will awake the surfers are having hot showers and feeling the extreme endorphin hit the restaurants fling open their doors we have pizza joints n ice cream parlours we characters in a background patina of humanity good guys turning into bad guys bad guys getting worse until sudden sainthoods conferred by accident in some kings cross bar the market in darkness in the square the trinkets and hats and bikinis and silver woman with dreadlocks has been here forever do yoga down by the shore while scarlet plays in the sand and rocks dad whats under the sand …? she asks then before i can answer more sea i suppose…. she says dreamily we walk back up the hill to the parade with imported mexican palms i hope the old spirit don’t get lost boy i’d love some of them galaxy shoes […]
spectral gate
galaxy shoes says aurora
man i’d love to get me some of them galaxy shoes
galaxy shoes says scarlet emphatically from behind
galaxy shoes says a chorus of voices
oh yeah those galaxy shoes
behind the wheel i’m driving my hard bargain
we travel over brook and stream
we see an eel under an old tree
we traverse sydney
day after australia day
summer after summer
suntan on suntan
evenings beheld in deepest delight
the quickening trees withhold a rustle ‘pon approach
the warmest nights down by the shore
the translucent sea becomes thee
i command this night to bring forth its fruit
some strange bloke n his bit of fluff
some shop we wander into
emerging clutching parcels years later
well we skid along under these neon beach lights
where the parking police have been trained in some remote desert camp
their hard hearts do not break so easily
but never mind it is tomorrow bondi will awake
the surfers are having hot showers and feeling the extreme endorphin hit
the restaurants fling open their doors
we have pizza joints n ice cream parlours
we characters in a background
patina of humanity
good guys turning into bad guys
bad guys getting worse
until sudden sainthoods conferred by accident in some kings cross bar
the market in darkness in the square
the trinkets and hats and bikinis and silver
woman with dreadlocks has been here forever
do yoga down by the shore while scarlet plays in the sand and rocks
dad whats under the sand …? she asks
then before i can answer
more sea i suppose…. she says dreamily
we walk back up the hill to the parade with imported mexican palms
i hope the old spirit don’t get lost
boy
i’d love some of them galaxy shoes
The weather’s looking great for today’s Zoo concert. Tickets are available from the venue gate from 3pm so come along and enjoy the surroundings. The concert kicks off at 7pm with a 1/2 hour acoustic support by Simon Shapiro. Ticket Enquiry phone number is 1800 675 875. Zoo website for Twilight concert information is http://www.twilightattaronga.com.au/enquiries.php
The weather’s looking great for today’s Zoo concert. Tickets are available from the venue gate from 3pm so come along and enjoy the surroundings. The concert kicks off at 7pm with a 1/2 hour acoustic support by Simon Shapiro.
Ticket Enquiry phone number is 1800 675 875.
Zoo website for Twilight concert information is http://www.twilightattaronga.com.au/enquiries.php
the lucky country. i love australia i am not an australian i am an englishman but i love it here i am aware of this countrys ugly beginnings we all struggle to redress the imbalance we struggle with our white collective guilty conscience our english ancestors (and the spanish and french etc) sailed round this world with their alcohol, christianity and their syphilis and their cannons and they took every place they came across that was the way things were done yet we were no less harsh to ourselves look at the first fleet full of miserable convicts it was the way things were done back then we cannot alter it the native australians needs and desires must be acknowledged our australia day is their invasion day…it is so very true… my dear friend kev carmody has told me of the horrors perpetrated on his family when his mother tried to hide him and his brother from the authorities who came to take them away at the end of the holidays each year. can you believe that they took kids away from their mums to reculturalise them? on the album we did together is a photo of kev bleeding and battered after 3 racists broke into his home…just to mistreat him…”they never even stole anything” said the bewildered man…and then later the warm mushy glow of seeing australias finest and most famous white singers interpreting this modest gentlemans songs….we need reconciliation…whatever that is..i dunno exactly…but i sure as hell want it….! meanwhile the others are here to stay …the second lot of australians …and the third and fourth lot…..and most of us are kinda nice people….yeah laconic slightly lazy you might say in the rest of the world we dont take things TOO seriously we like to just relax the […]
good onya mate
the lucky country.
i love australia
i am not an australian i am an englishman
but i love it here
i am aware of this countrys ugly beginnings
we all struggle to redress the imbalance
we struggle with our white collective guilty conscience
our english ancestors (and the spanish and french etc)
sailed round this world with their alcohol, christianity and their syphilis and their cannons and they took every place they came across
that was the way things were done
yet we were no less harsh to ourselves
look at the first fleet full of miserable convicts
it was the way things were done back then
we cannot alter it
the native australians needs and desires must be acknowledged
our australia day is their invasion day…it is so very true…
my dear friend kev carmody has told me of the horrors perpetrated on his family when his mother tried to hide him and his brother from the authorities who came to take them away at the end of the holidays each year. can you believe that they took kids away from their mums to reculturalise them? on the album we did together is a photo of kev bleeding and battered after 3 racists broke into his home…just to mistreat him…”they never even stole anything” said the bewildered man…and then later the warm mushy glow of seeing australias finest and most famous white singers interpreting this modest gentlemans songs….we need reconciliation…whatever that is..i dunno exactly…but i sure as hell want it….!
meanwhile the others are here to stay …the second lot of australians …and the third and fourth lot…..and most of us are kinda nice people….yeah laconic slightly lazy you might say in the rest of the world
we dont take things TOO seriously
we like to just relax
the weathers nice especially in sydney
melbourne is a groovy city
brisbane is all grown up and very savvy
perth and freo are gorgeous
the coastline is astounding
the interior is mysterious…its not for everyone
i need the sea so i have to stay here
i feel trapped away from the sea
i will pay the high rents to be beside it
without the sea i might as well die
our life in australia is mostly pleasant
our 2 political parties arent really that much different
everything here is less extreme
i pity the americans and their gun laws
whatever the constitution says
they didnt have fucking automatic machine guns back then
if people are dying its a bad and stupid thing
there arent so many guns here
things are more easy going
i have dealt with all kindsa policemen n customs men all round the world
i have found the australians to be more human as far as possible
more realistic more trying to sort it out
more tolerant
the schools are good too
at least my 3 kids here have been loving their school
everything feels relatively sane
i use the word relatively and i emphasise that
relatively sane
we are not quite so impressed with stuff just because someone in hollywood or paris or london says so
we make up our own minds
new zealanders are like that too only in spades…
i love australia but there is no dumb patriotism involved in my love
i have lived all over the place but i always will come back
bondi beach is bloody amazing
i am a lucky cat to live here
you can be whoever you like and nobody gives a damn
you can be hugh jackman or a nutty ninny
you can be keanu reeves or a geezer selling sunglasses
no one here gonna make a fuss
we got brazilians we got italians
we got russians n south africans
we got jewish we got moslem we got christian
we got sun worshippers and yoga freaks
we got families we got visitors
we gotta million swedes passing thru who will never stay
because sweden has its own sanity
but its not our easy going “she’ll be right, mate…”
i like australian culture
i like our actors our films our music our art
i like our lesser fixation on celebrity unlike some of our anglo brothers.
australia canada new zealand united states and the british isles are in perpetual brotherhood as springing from the same place and all retain a deep sense of kinship within these countries. the griefs of the other countries in this anglo kind of unspoken union weigh heavier upon us and so too do each others triumphs make us lighter
i could never foresee a time ultimately when these countries would ever forsake each other. i acknowledge the great things each country brings forth …and i shudder when they get it wrong…..
the beautiful countries of europe i love them too
especially italy which has delivered so much beauty and cruelty to this world too
and spain for its strengths and austerities
germany for its all its precision and its beautiful countryside
anyway even considering everything
australia is just a very easy place to live
we should be appreciative here
let us be involved in no more wars tho except of direst necessity
let us evolve in our attitudes towards all living creatures
let us lead the way in vegetarian and vegan eating
america will be conquered by fast food not an enemy
thats whats killing them over there
not lil kim jong or any persians its KFC and macdonalds
australia is facing the same fate
people eschew fast food!
people exercise people do yoga
people make music people make art
be nice to each other ….just how youd want it yerself
me…?
i am a grateful old pommy bastard
grateful my mum n dad migrated here
grateful for an easy going australian way of life
grateful for having had a good run here
grateful for the breaks i got etc etc ad tedium
therefore i wish you a happy australian day you gooseballs everywhere
we should be happy
we should be thankful
we should be nice to each other
there are much worse places to be my friends
sk bondi beach aust fucking day 2012
i wake one day and bondi is deserted the people have all gone home a hammock swings empty in the greenery the ferns and cactuses the colourful pots and vases the paved courtyards are silent oh the gentle rain enriching soothing calming the pool is warm i plunge into the salty brew the bottom of the pool is lined with seaweed and waves crash over the side slapping me about today a rare energy fills me i kick through the dim warm green water the waves come down and i escape by diving under the blessed quiet underwater the healing power of this immense ocean the holiness of the pure and simple things in the sauna an old ukrainian guy tells me about his sauna hat instead of listening i drift away on his marvellous accent the melody of his speech suggests kiev and great forests coming home i encounter hardly anyone some good news i am moving into a nice apartment soon i will have a wonderful view up in the trees this will inspire me to pour forth more creation isms i have never lived anywhere as nice as this before in some ways i am inspired to create some things that will be good i am solving art conundrums by the easel load i am sorting out music like it was my first language i am understanding music on more levels more deeply it is coming to me so easily after this long apprenticeship a brief period as a master craftsman saraswati favours me for the while all art is from god all art ultimately should be dedicated to god it should contain or touch upon god or even upon his perceived absence god is afoot god is a mile god is a warm grey day the […]
opportunity nocked
i wake one day and bondi is deserted
the people have all gone home
a hammock swings empty in the greenery
the ferns and cactuses
the colourful pots and vases
the paved courtyards are silent
oh the gentle rain
enriching soothing calming
the pool is warm
i plunge into the salty brew
the bottom of the pool is lined with seaweed
and waves crash over the side slapping me about
today a rare energy fills me
i kick through the dim warm green water
the waves come down and i escape by diving under
the blessed quiet underwater
the healing power of this immense ocean
the holiness of the pure and simple things
in the sauna an old ukrainian guy tells me about his sauna hat
instead of listening i drift away on his marvellous accent
the melody of his speech suggests kiev and great forests
coming home i encounter hardly anyone
some good news i am moving into a nice apartment soon
i will have a wonderful view up in the trees
this will inspire me to pour forth more creation isms
i have never lived anywhere as nice as this before in some ways
i am inspired to create some things that will be good
i am solving art conundrums by the easel load
i am sorting out music like it was my first language
i am understanding music on more levels more deeply
it is coming to me so easily
after this long apprenticeship a brief period as a master craftsman
saraswati favours me for the while
all art is from god
all art ultimately should be dedicated to god
it should contain or touch upon god
or even upon his perceived absence
god is afoot god is a mile
god is a warm grey day
the kind of god and day i like
i think i am content and happy just at this moment
the cool summer seabreeze the constant drizzle
the trees drip drip drip
i am detached and pleasantly so
warm grey day turns into cool black night
i look at a picture of kate mitchell and me that sits on my desk
i send my prayers to craig and the girls
i hope they are doing ok
i wish she was out there tonight
this world can be a real hell quite often
bad things happen
mission calls it a clusterfuck
i am grateful for this moments respite
a brief pocket of time in equilibrium
it is truly appreciated
sam famine here i am a private dick a ladies man i swear on these spheres that spin in space i swear by the truth in every liar never the shot without the fire who let the lamb in…? not sam famine deals a’poppin’ in his car wonder how he got that scar wonder how he got this far yeah sam famine
morocco 1910
sam famine here i am
a private dick
a ladies man
i swear on these spheres that spin in space
i swear by the truth in every liar
never the shot without the fire
who let the lamb in…?
not sam famine
deals a’poppin’ in his car
wonder how he got that scar
wonder how he got this far
yeah
sam famine
Purchase any two of these three reissued and remastered albums (Gold Afternoon Fix/Starfish/Priest=Aura) and receive a free copy of our special 8 page full colour program from the Future Past Perfect tour, available while stocks last! Purchase any one of the three albums above (plus one or more of the t-shirts listed below) and receive a 10% discount off the price of the t-shirt’s you select: 30th Anniversary Future Past Perfect Tour (limited edition) Priest=Aura Starfish Untitled #23
Purchase any two of these three reissued and remastered albums (Gold Afternoon Fix/Starfish/Priest=Aura) and receive a free copy of our special 8 page full colour program from the Future Past Perfect tour, available while stocks last!
Purchase any one of the three albums above (plus one or more of the t-shirts listed below) and receive a 10% discount off the price of the t-shirt’s you select:
the blinds are busted they knock against the sills in the breezes well i went and waited for you by the steps where the fishermen and pelicans stand on the rocks the sea wholly mackerel and whiting it out descending in whirling schools like japanese waves the swirling waters eddy and spasm the clouds come right down and threaten and a chill blows across the droplets of sweat the green neon bar is pulsating thru bleary window down by the sea shore i still hear its muffled beat i exist by cockle shell and rock pool glow a solitary black point in the faint light me and some dog that followed me here in the darkness i cant quite tell what it is i hear it breathe in the foggy brain night i see its shapes as it slinking along the night has its names but all mixed up all of them strange the night reminds me of some subservient courtier eager to please and swift nonetheless already eleven o’clock you check the screen for verication scrolling down the lists of your lives auditioning your various voices you move within one frame to another now youre one thing now youre other little fish in the river live a long life!
infra red ultra marine
the blinds are busted
they knock against the sills in the breezes
well i went and waited for you by the steps
where the fishermen and pelicans stand on the rocks
the sea wholly mackerel and whiting it out
descending in whirling schools like japanese waves
the swirling waters eddy and spasm
the clouds come right down and threaten
and a chill blows across the droplets of sweat
the green neon bar is pulsating thru bleary window
down by the sea shore i still hear its muffled beat
i exist by cockle shell and rock pool glow
a solitary black point in the faint light
me and some dog that followed me here
in the darkness i cant quite tell what it is
i hear it breathe in the foggy brain night
i see its shapes as it slinking along
the night has its names
but all mixed up all of them strange
the night reminds me of some subservient courtier
eager to please and swift nonetheless
already eleven o’clock
you check the screen for verication
scrolling down the lists of your lives
auditioning your various voices
you move within one frame to another
now youre one thing
now youre other
little fish
in the river
live a long life!
a wild and hungry evening the people swarmed to the bars and restaurants the phosphorescent sea glimmered out there no master could have captured its atmosphere a boats lights bob in warm pinkness against the inky horizon a breeze comes raking across the sea fresh from barbary the elephant palms planted by queen Encelon the tree lined boulevards lead to a lovely harbour the people are affluent the lamps in the houses are orange and red where am i ? lost in the breathless festival crowds suddenly overcome by all the noise then plunged into silence except for distant cars the white noise of crashing waves upon our shores the moon seems to moan even the stars give off a slight sizzling sound this summer of mans final times a boat leaves for antioch a ceremony to invoke a god with no name prisoner in a cell who committed no crime the arrival of love in the shape of a faun always a summer though the light through the trees the nights were so warm the air was so dense interwoven and bound in every sense my holiday blurred through eyes of a boy this night air is a miraculous cure for all ills Encelon herself now sits in her arbour surrounded by lodestones and pearls and in carnations surrounded by paintings done by the masters paintings of knights in lagoons and great muscled swans paintings of heavenly visioned night encased within gold dragged across unctuous membranes of silver a faint electricity then follows the coils Encelon in the warmth of her royal barbarian garden reading her cards and drinking her tea and the gardener who snips away at her hedges and the cook who slaves away at her pie and the riders who deliver her secret instructions and the […]
within the house of perpetual night
a wild and hungry evening
the people swarmed to the bars and restaurants
the phosphorescent sea glimmered out there
no master could have captured its atmosphere
a boats lights bob in warm pinkness against the inky horizon
a breeze comes raking across the sea fresh from barbary
the elephant palms planted by queen Encelon
the tree lined boulevards lead to a lovely harbour
the people are affluent
the lamps in the houses are orange and red
where am i ?
lost in the breathless festival crowds
suddenly overcome by all the noise
then plunged into silence except for distant cars
the white noise of crashing waves upon our shores
the moon seems to moan
even the stars give off a slight sizzling sound
this summer of mans final times
a boat leaves for antioch
a ceremony to invoke a god with no name
prisoner in a cell who committed no crime
the arrival of love in the shape of a faun
always a summer though
the light through the trees
the nights were so warm the air was so dense
interwoven and bound in every sense
my holiday blurred through eyes of a boy
this night air is a miraculous cure for all ills
Encelon herself now sits in her arbour
surrounded by lodestones and pearls and in carnations
surrounded by paintings done by the masters
paintings of knights in lagoons and great muscled swans
paintings of heavenly visioned night encased within gold
dragged across unctuous membranes of silver
a faint electricity then follows the coils
Encelon in the warmth of her royal barbarian garden
reading her cards and drinking her tea
and the gardener who snips away at her hedges
and the cook who slaves away at her pie
and the riders who deliver her secret instructions
and the drivers who whisk her away to her sea
with all of that yet she cannot resist night
night has enveloped her favour in dark
night in the house of deep sleeping children
where summer co-ordinates their faded out dreams
summer and night go hand in hand
along marine avenue that leads to the boats
the water doth glitter and weave in its current
its easy to believe some giant is under the sea
a worm from earths old days before its first rapture
a worm that swam in the depths of some sea
a huge black cold thing that knows all our names
it swims in the darkness of 5 thousand leagues
with every fathom it senses our coming
it smells all our souls from worlds away
but Encelon smiles in her garden of summer
the night reminds her of times long gone by
of dreams and of lovers who all run aground
before the reef of morning has loomed
the leaves outside her bedroom when she was a child
at night in summer they seemed to exult in these sea breezes
the night promised so much it could never deliver
each fool that believes it finds sorrow and blues
the night is a mercy on us shadowed in pain
but a night without sleep is an agony unequalled
you claw at its back but slumber is a beast
Encelon has spooked sleep with her trances and trinkets
in her sprawling mansion on top of the hill
she paces the floors until after the dawn
she sits by the fireplace all cold old and black
she watches the sun leap out of her sea
and me
i sit in this room
i paint and i write
i try my hand at a tune if i might
its quiet tonight
my own dear sleep beckons
i heed his heavy steps within my head
soon
then
i hit bed
