1. |
Volkshaus
03:24
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what is this here? nestled in my arms
walking the dog is like a mime
dragging a rope along the council footpath
and the neighbours, mostly kind
pouring the dandelion wine
filling a box with thistle pies
and white peach stars
and it gets dark sometimes
working in a mine
filling a trough of sediment
knobbly mounds of diamond
and blood black stone
waiting for a whistle cry
watching a speckle breasted bird
a ribcage through a lens of earth
on a sunday you were mine
the orange morning curls
bringing the teacake to my lap
filling a cup with peppermint
and clover pearl
as we step into the light
shaking the sugar from our coats
noticing where the woolly thyme
has grown in spurts
and though the walls grow damp
and yes they look diseased and strange
I hang tapestries, marble frames
I think that I do so for you
one day I will go underground
tell the master
I have got a lead somewhere
a kitchen or a dock
punch the clock and prime the cart
I wonder what a diamond weighs
nestled in a pocket of earth
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2. |
Bodies
03:50
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you’re filling the room somehow
as you’re rolling that giant tongue
you brandish as a gun
a wet finger and a crooked thumb
we’re tilting the wooden bed frame
so no two corners sit quite the same
and the floorboards retain the scars
of the cigarettes once discarded
and the lovers’ bodies
serving as stepping stones
to the houses you call your own
i’m filling a small chipped tea cup
and giving the fine string a tug
you press into my back
a thigh sits level with my neck
now the ceiling is warped and cracked
bed is splinters and some thumbtacks
and i’ve hardly cause to call
when your foot is in the door
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3. |
Longbows
04:37
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one of us leaving a coffee ring
one of us leaving the dog inside
if it gets that hard
one of us is long gone
the other’s leaning a long back
up against the wall
if it gets that hard then i’m sure
and i get just a ribbon of line
some wine cork and a net
plucking the line of your hickory bow
pulling for sport, for wild mice
for doves
couldn’t love you more
one of us is lying low
the other’s leading a warm light
up against the snow
if it gets that hard then i’ll go
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4. |
In The Afternoon
05:06
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in the afternoon
the iron post lamp flickers on
not a moment too soon
white lace lines a shop front window
‘neath the elderberry cakes
as the train pulled out
I remarked at your hair
pressed up to the filthy glass
and you turned
alabaster throat
a golden apple swan
I would gladly stroke
that antelope sized eagle
with a broom and rope
if you harness here
some strength for me as I
flit about the evergreens dear
little premature
but below my navel
thrums a slow and a delicate bloom
christ not
I would surely collapse
I would bury my face in cement
still, a novel thought
I close my eyes
and we’re there on your father’s porch
town talk
bearing down on our necks
as we tend to the blossoms and the land
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5. |
Mount Honey
03:01
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what would you say
if we called this place off
wrapped up some bread
and the feather down coats
down to old mount honey
that’s where we’re going
down to that hut
at the foot of the hill
unleash the dogs
leave their leads on the sill
clean out the oven
we each gotta eat
lay out the spoons
and i’ll rustle some heat
tell your mother
we’ve surfaced alive
make up the bed
and i’ll muster some wine
call up your boss
I don’t care if you lie
tell them we’re laying
our bones here to die
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Lucy Roleff Melbourne, Australia
Lucy Roleff is a classically trained, folk musician from Melbourne.
"The focal point
of Roleff’s music is, of course, her voice: this quavering, rather deep husk, that has the blunt European tongue of singers like Nico and Sibylle Baier"- Happy
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