where aphrodite is
live in los olimpo
I’ve always had this vision for a long-form concert. Goes back to when I was the backdoor anvil boy who dreamt Aulos, and I guess I could dream even now. But music is not a dream, it’s beyond a dream. It’s what’s there, it’s real and it’s all there, except that you don’t hear it because the door’s shut and she’s got the key. Same as the key to poetry: She holds it all.
I took my time. Still didn’t get it, though. She’s just giving me sneak peeks, inches of progress. I’d get full-frontal when I’ve got my foot, but for now, here’s the inch that I managed.
I got half her mind but a zero claim,
‘cause of a distinction of a ‘different lame’,
like I was born to lose and I can’t sustain,
What do you think I am?
A little closer when the day begins,
a look at my mind, you turn your back again,
a shifting road’s the shape you’re in,
What do you think I am?
You have me number but it’s always you it’s for,
What do you think I am?
Am I the fowl you flayed, for a feast that’s on?
“Get us a plate to serve Hephaestus on”,
better be sure before you taste me, son!
What do you think I am?
You have me number but it’s always you it’s for,
What do you think I am?
Burn me some light as you tie to this stake,
the fire could be mine, so see what you take!
Let me wave to my world,
she won’t mind that you’re late:
What do you think I am?
No one to listen to the blues anymore. No one to sing the blues, it’s all just ‘I shit you because you’d shit me back sometime’ and it’s sad how people don’t actually get sad and fall into this… moody depression, where you write her to fight her, and that’s what I’d like to be doing, because that’s what I’m all about.
First prospective single from ‘where aphrodite is: live in los olimpo
’. Cry with me.
’. Cry with me.
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