summer 2021




“cherub corpses“ and murdered angels

Somebody in a dark flannel and buggreen helmet riding a motorcycle on the freeway

A waiter and a cook strolling in a sunset parking lot, white shirts and black pants, fake formality; on a smoke break

Black backpack tucked in a fireplace behind the bar, tavern with brass pipes crossing into the ceiling, hemingway quote on a chalkboard

“Here’s to your destruction“

Got lost in the thrill of the metaphor

Slightly beat up green truck with a tattooed arm hanging out the window, connected to a dude in sunglasses and a black peaked cap who reminded me of Adam Clopton

“He is a prince and he is inevitable.“ -Archie

Boy with brown hair and a black shirt on a citibike with a black guitar case strapped across his back

A fire of unknown origin took my baby away

fourteen songs about seven people, two houses, a motorcycle, and a locked treatment facility for adolescent boys.

July on his knees

“Some ghost fag in southern Ontario encouraged this“

I could watch the hammer swerve

I’m just here to take you home.

Consciousness rising from the gutter to the gut

Too well dressed for the witness stand

“A beautiful fire hazard.“ -lucien

“It’s late. That makes sense in some universe.“ -teddy

Child of a catholic priest

Ode to elliot

you’re in love with me and I’ve been ignoring you

“Heterosexuality sucks, even as a board game.“

your screaming automatic pain

thy fearful symmetry

shirt that says ONE HUNDRED WHITE MITSUBISHIS

You’re never gonna be cool, so stop trying

do you really wanna find out what it means to want something more than you want to want?

Comorbidity (poem) I didn’t want to bore ya/didn’t wanna pick up your shit for ya

Hell with a handgun

I love you I love you I love you I love the dark of your hair brushing the blue of your jean jacket I love your three day stubble I love your high laugh and your thumb circling my palm and the way you smile at me as I shoot you on my film camera, like if you told me you loved me I might actually believe you

Scio, sweetheart

“fit of summer folly“ -morgan

Your heart is ripshit
Your mouth is everywhere
I’m lyin’ in it
Is she weird
Is she over me
Like the stars and the sun

We’re the kind of beautiful that gets shot down. - Delany Lemke

fishing fleets, skulls, and silkworms

Angel boy, I gotta go!

you’re the last best thing that’s ever gonna happen to me

Like ladies have said to me “just what are you?“ I said, “I’m everything.“

I am a criminal and therefore like Caravaggio

تقبرنيc

Yeah, I jumped off a cliff, but let’s talk about something else.

I don’t know how to write songs like you and
I could never write songs like you
cause you can write songs without using the words I or you
and I could easily take my time
unlearning the habit of looking up rhymes, but hey what the fuck
don’t get too close to me or I might wanna get too close to you too

wait don’t tell me, wait don’t tell me, it’s about to get good

Am I listening? I was detonating.

I don’t think we broke the glass, but hell if I know
I never learned to dance, what the hell do I know?

You’re losing in a staring contest with whatever’s in your mirror.

And I won’t always need you like this