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Lana song “bartender” playing



What if we walked though the streets silently? No one spoke a word, the trains in Moscow are completely quiet, we can do that here, too

Trains and cars only, without them we’d be in the suburbs or rural streets in Indiana where I used to live

I’ve been drinking more but I’m happier and I’m unsure if there’s a connection

I fell in love with someone without any reason, didn’t see it coming lips hit together and changes happened swiftly

Walking down Madison and it’s too hot I’m sweating through all my clothes, mind reeling from last night and morning, heart beating

I’m okay with silence

Your eyes, your voice, I think about your words

Walking through East Village a woman on the phone says “I didn’t know how bad it was” and no one ever really seems to know how bad it was

Pause and play
Rewind
Antiquated modes of listening

I’m tired of thinking about my drunken mother, I’ll relocate my thoughts today, send them somewhere else, fixate on a broken zipper on my winter coat

Dress shoes wet slipping and sliding over uneven sidewalk and exposed parts in the streets of New York

All around the mulberry bush
Can’t remember the rest

Two swans glide by while I’m stuck in the mud on the bank

Never forget to say “bread and butter” when you split the pole and never umbrellas in the house my grandmother would scream at me, fate wouldn’t be kind if I did this

Can’t really spread the good word or gospel my tongue isn’t working quite right I tried to follow a recipe none of the proportions  were correct, used salt instead of sugar too

Memory of painting, can you recall the brush strokes? The weight, and pressure

The colors being squeezed from
The tubes


How is a raven like a writing desk?
Too many unknowns
I used to pretend to smoke cigarettes as a kid
Ballerina——slats falling off my cheap ikea bed
Bank—— fingers on machine pressing
Bar———dirty tables in the back, where we kiss in secret
Beach——umbrella falling, rolling sand in my mouth, holding you in the ocean

Neck of shirt stretched and squeezed by hand
Bruises on throat and ass
Afternoon light in small dirty window

What does it mean when you see someone and you feel fear and love fully and simultaneously




Glenn Cox ︎
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