propel me towards the shade where it’s cool
I stand there looking relaxed for the earth’s surface
when I’m used for rejection, to what use to be
your nose raised shunning the soil that made me
you laugh a scandalous laugh, when you gave me too much rum
and distorted my start on the world
we’re good at saying goodbye to what created us and destroyed us: equally.
But this infinity is like a boomerang living right now in our lives:
dem, dat I see dem display as I walk to work
dem dat deir lives dat I left behind
their bodies prematurely bowed, and walking slow
scaving the ground for opportunity, saying how else
how else can you see.
Last month I did my radio show, Broad Strokes, on Washington Heights Free Radio (WHFR), and it was a lot of fun. I spent probably three hours listening to my collection, trying to find the right songs to play. I hope you enjoy what I came up with, listen HERE.
Sun by Caribou
Tightrope by Janelle Monae
Sprawl II Mountains Beyond Mountains by Arcade Fire
Hell’s Bells by Cary Ann Hearst
Maximalist by Baths
Sung (Not Said) by Magnetic Island
Normal by Envy
In the Fall by Future Islands (Featuring Katrina Ford)
Would Know by Mount Kimbie
Sleepless In Silver Lake by Les Savy Fav
Just For You by Object
Natural Selection by UNKLE (Featuring The Black Angels)
Aminals by Baths
Lady Daydream by Twin Sister
Junveniles by The Walkmen
In August, I invited the experimental noise band The Boy With The Ice Cream Face to play an acoustic set, and they were fantastic. There’s banjo playing involved. You can listen HERE.
I’ll be on the radio again this coming Wednesday, October 27 at 8:00 p.m. with special guest:
She Keeps Bees
Rock duo from Brooklyn. These guys are awesome, I completely recommend tuning in. To listen go HERE.
Bringing you stories, live events, and much more, WHFR tries and remains independent of any corporate sponsorship. So, if you like what WHFR is doing, you can donate by contacting us at firstname.lastname@example.org. DIY forever baby!
Also, if you’re in a band or know someone who is, and would like to be on the show, please email me at email@example.com.
I watched and learned too many times…
Because I have a friend who knows all about death
saw it with my own eyes, as we poked the body
“it,” said disgruntly let him win on things we argued over
over gender, over sexuality as the waste made
the body morph into the unrecognizable.
What mattered to me, as we stared at the dismemberment of a self being lifted out the river, was holding somone’s hand. I didn’t want to hold his when I have on several occassions. On days we’ve kissed, on days our parents thought we were so cute together, because his hands were as filthy as mine, and he wanted to keep a namesake, when I had let go of all traditional.
As I ran through the swamp, I ran home to my mother hoping she would recognize me
tell me who I’m from, who I followed, I found that she was perplexed as me and that I should ask her father about her origin. She had forgotten he was dead like the rest of them.
There’s a mad woman yelling in front of this town hall
without any windows left, she’s been yelling about
how much she loves her lover. Driven by the memory
of her 17 years of laughter, she works harder to plea to the tourist.
Some of us aspire to greater endeavors, but most of us just
want to come home to the one that we love, building words
like tetris, too slow down the time shoot, trap hole.
There’s a mad woman yelling in front of the financial district
she’s been yelling about how her lover left her with nine children
I wonder why, or where is the Seven Day Adventist to save her
they weren’t at this location, and there wasn’t anything left
after 17 years of her marriage, there wasn’t anything left…
I needed more than a juniper tree
the sky above as you picture it
beautiful with a temperament of your eyes
a light gasping poor renditions of blue
hazy, and trapped in a pixel-ness of time
we wonder in circles, why a juniper?
You never needed me, as I sit drunken
singing a tune I already know, never gonna love you
breeze through the curtains as a new sardonicism
I’m singing your seduction, lighting up after each one
of your words, syllables that I’m addicted too
when the sky is bluer than the color of your eyes
when you say to me why you can’t love me
vulgar than the ocean’s occasional fucked-up clouding
better than, further than the obstacles you present.