Uncanny Valley

First of the Month

Tiny bottles

Got them big foam cups with blue straws

Soaked shirts on heads and gap toothed smiles

Flat stomachs

Thick nails Campbell’s soup sweat, just looking

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Every dog has its day

Every dog has its day

I’ll come back when I get paid

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Will work, disabled

Sharpie on cardboard, clean your bins, haul junk

Wash your car with drinking water in the desert

We work with what we’ve got, peg legs and hook

Only friend in the world panting in a wagon

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Every dog has its day

Every dog has its day

I’ll come back when I get paid

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Your DoorDash driver has a walker

Bed bound wife and three cats at home

Laid off after a lifetime of service

And old Uncle Same he said

Well 2000 a month is plenty enough

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He had some dogs too, once

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No Histrionics

Full disclosure hm-hmm-mm

He ain’t worth the calories burned

And it must be June in France hm-hmm-mm

‘Cause he’d drown one drop the River Styx

All he drinks like a fish, so unseasoned

His tears acidify the ocean, he’s saltless

I don’t look over my shoulder, loose no belt

One drop, oh, one drop the River Styx and

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Is it love or is it Sunk Cost

Cold comfort of a dual income (in the end, in the end)

Your sex a script a pedophile wrote

A man of course, voyeur internal

Glitz, flash, that Halo Effect (in the end, in the end)

Do you want him Bambi-legged against the wall in public

Or did he just cutely call you a #goddess?

Are you wet or is it stage presence? (in the end, in the end)

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Baby, baby, baby, make a wish

A single coin if you think you can afford it

It was never about communication (in the end, in the end)

Your language hm-hmm-mm

The price is paid in silver, pure conduction

Heads nor tails a spark could land (in the end, in the end)

Mistook neuropathy for passion

Come, come correct

Baby, baby, baby, make a wish

It’s about intent

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In the end

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No Man’s Land

This ain’t Ruth and Boaz

Shimi-shimmy out the chaff

And wheat’s the staple of the white man

Saw paradise said make it flat

Where there’s a silo there’s surely vermin

His profit pretends subsistence

Expansive ecological expense

Long sleeves, bandanas, ball caps and straw hats

No documents

No documents

Desperation implies consent

Does it not

Does it not

Was the border that crossed them

Grocery stores got strings attached

What touched your lips was trafficked

That’s a dirty price tag

Pick a spice name a genocide

Summer synonymous with citrus

Of all things, something winter ripe

Out of sight, out of mind

These ain’t the women take to wife

But he takes and takes and takes alright

Whole new meaning to hen night

Be it fellow hand or foreman

Field or concrete slick with chicken shit

Not a one of them your friend

Man’s a man’s a man

Filthy fingered while you debone cutlets

Bled and bled for your job kept

Or worse he loose the prick

Remember girls, you’re Catholic

You’ll be forced to keep it

Desperation implies consent

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Premonition

Wouldn’t know a love song if it bit ya

Wouldn’t know a love song if it bit ya

Only like a tenor when he’s a screamer

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That boy, he couldn’t tell ya one thing about her

No meat on the false cords means no flowers

Eyes wide and dark-bright sunken

Skin so fragile as an insect’s wings

Submerged

Chest cracked open, open

Aural bloom surrendered in death

No two the same, harmonics exquisite

You men, you’re born dumb and deaf

Blind to the palette until you’ve met

And would you meet me in my garden

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He couldn’t tell ya one thing about her

No he couldn’t tell ya one thing about her

All these tombstones say Wife and Mother

What about her

What about her

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Would you meet me in my garden

Do you remember how to say my name

Without words

Would your hands know me in the dark earth

Know me and only wonder, more

Know me and never wander, alone

And love don’t fear the reaper, no

Love was it me held you first, you know

When you know, you know, you know

I’m here with a shovel

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He couldn’t tell ya one thing about her

No he couldn’t tell ya one thing about her

All these tombstones say Wife and Mother

What about her

What about her

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Mami Wata

Boy these deep waters

Lack for drama don’t lack for passion

Lack for games don’t lack for patience

This serpent always at my hips quenched

That’s grips of a goddess

My love is consummate

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I said always

Have a heart can’t be swayed

Oh I’m warm on the inside

Shiver sweet with the on glide

Heady on the off glide

I said always

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Cue the drum roll

Mama mama she’s a dancer

Mm that’s some stamina, pulse beat steady thunder

Couch, floor to table, not an inch I don’t savor

Have it last meal on death row

Either I’m dead or I’m letting you know

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I said always

Have a heart can’t be swayed

Oh I’m warm on the inside

Shiver sweet with the on glide

Heady on the off glide

I said always

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That’s always

Pretty papa don’t slip

Ha, he gimme drip

Think it just a woman wets

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Beloved

Wouldn’t know the meaning of the word

Wouldn’t know the meaning of the word

Any more a fish can know a bird

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Can put a white veil on your chattel

Can put a white veil on your chattel

What choice has the house girl

He just mad he can’t be Master

Hole’s a hole, brown bitch or cattle

Not a one of them your brother

Push come shove, dirt come doorknob

He just mad he can’t be Master

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Come here girl

Never mind me red hair

Bring me your dolly poppet

Needlepoint with Maman Brigitte

Needlepoint with Maman Brigitte

Ain’t no skin color in the end

They choose first to be men

And every woman heart be black

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Remember

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Sethe did what she had to do

Sethe did what she had to do

I’m too angry for the blues

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Tatterhood

A barren queen begged a daughter off a pauper

That hobbled witch said eat just one flower

Beneath her bed would grow two flowers

The sweetest fair and rare the other

So sweet she craved another

So sweet she craved another

And the queen she bore two daughters

One a blessing and one a curse

The rainbow and the storm inseparable

One sat pretty while the other scrapped

One in ribbons the other rags

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Are you pretty or are you wild

Would you still do it without likes or subscribers

Go beast mode for zero dollars

For your mother and your sister

Face an army of trolls alone

Ride out on a goat and slit their throats

Oh bodies gonna hit the floor

They stole her head so heads would roll

Set sail with her just her sister in tow

Are you pretty or are you wild

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Took the fight right up on them

Frayed and grey they looked right past her

Snuck the head right from the window

Gut and sacked the den soon after

And they set sail our sisters

Some far off adventure, imagine

The sea and stars and your best girl forever

A distant kingdom wandered, curious they did dock there

It king paid a visit proper

Fell fast upon blessed visage

And she said yes, our perfect princess

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Are you pretty or are you wild

Would you still do it without likes or subscribers

When your sister says on but one condition

A second suitor take your hand first

And all the prince was forced, king undeterred

She wed him stubborn, bare faced, raw hemmed

Thunder front upon miserable event

Beside her twin the perfect princess

Fire lanced side glanced altar knelt

Are you pretty or are you wild

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That old man was a scoundrel

She was agreeable, soft, and mild

Young enough to be his daughter

Pampered pedestal receptacle

So sweet he craved another

So sweet he craved another

Tats made sure she bore no child

Tats made sure he took a tumble

Paid every maid parting sum but the one

Bu the one her sister’s favorite

What you seen well no you didn’t

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Are you pretty or are you wild

Would you still do it without likes or subscribers

How well do you love your sister

And what of our sullen mister

For at first his mood was sour

But no love lost with his father

And he saw this rare sister

Make cowl to golden crown

Make goat to mighty stallion

Spoon to sword, spoon to wand

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Somehow she wore the finest gown

Well

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She gave him the option

Come warm southerly winds

But he asked no annulment, oh, no

Nothing and everything had changed

If she’d have him, if she’d have him

He’d have his queen be wild

A beauty after all

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@~^~

Just so we’re clear I am not a musician nor was I raised in an environment where music took place beyond the age of eight, which was when my overachieving polymath banker seven-instrument-musician grandpa died. Unless you count the birds outside, wailing babies, domestic disturbances and sirens. I also used to hum along to electrical currents. I just make a bunch of sounds in my head, sing-mutter and write things down. If you put an instrument in my hands I wouldn’t know anything about it beyond which end to hold. I think I would have loved drums though. Nobody stares at the drummer, and the only thing gets my blood up as much as heavy bass is percussion. That and I like to hit things.

Anyways, if you’re wondering why I’m suddenly dipping my toes into the folksy bluesy jazzy end of the spectrum when my natural inclination is obviously to be cold, fast, and stabby…my sister and I are once again attempting to visit New Orleans. Christmas through New Years if Nothing Happens. I’d say come hell or high water but fate has a way of taking me up on that. Cough Katrina Cough COVID. Brass, beignets and swamp kittens here I come! Third time’s a charm!

Someday I’ll have the time to properly tinker with my songs. Far too much tedious, pointless bullshit eating up my days at present.


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