milesatticusmartin

[milesatticusmartin]

Because I’ve been quarantined with all the time in the world, I no longer an excuse to refrain from dream-following. I had lots of old hats I could have pressed the red button on, but I needed a fresh spark to get cooking with while the steak was still sizzling. I had to make my fingertips tough again. I had to overdub my weak little voice. I had to accept a hundred imperfections and a load of bad rhythm. I had to wince through clunky transitions. The technical side of things, and the numbing negotiation with my computer, made the process a slog. I dedicated a day to the lyrics, tossing out failed attempts and eventually being contented with what was finally laid down. I would rewrite the final verse if I could, though. I can justify all the others, but that one is arbitrary manic energy. I guess that should be preserved on occasion, as a point of reference for when things are making sense.

[milesatticusmartin]

Apple Cider Vinegar

by Miles Martin

a gaping wound falls deep into the armchair crying and

its lizardlounging lovely and

its fruitflying into the mouthwash swish swashing piehole and

down it goes with the blue of the pour and the bleak squeak of the mousetrap cracking 

snapshitshut 

on the bone breaking pawse

of furry silence (squeak scatters squeak)

pan pennies personalities tinkle on cast iron irony at the cheap price of ten cents,

and incense knitting smoke rings like a guilt quilt built like belts buckling under the weight of 

tapping time,

happy time,

you time,

you two timing son of a bubblegum hand holding handgun you! your cocking voice is tick tocking a lot and dripping snot splatter everywhere!

you make me want to worship my own feet!

you make me want to appreciate them!

you fill me full of mirthfulmadnessmiserymemories!

you’re barking up the wrong three messiahs each of them scolding me into their manifestly mocky mold characterized by merciless merciless ridicruel merciless ridicruel plagued like a big ball-bearing black rat

away away away i say in a way in a way annoy annay annoy annay annoy annay annoy annay annoy nothing not even a crumb of bread breaking communion style stale slapping my wrist with a twist and a misty visage in a state of christian piss oregon pumping adrenaline as they read me the rite the way the rite the way

the passage foretold for the white lamb meat red lamb meat like a tormenting riddle memory possibility fiddling throughout about the basics the tongue clicks the baked sticks who fire flowing sowing and weaping the teachings of preachings foretold for

the palace gates the united states the barrels and crates the lemonade selling lamentations and the fade feeling sort of sordid in their lasting effect over generations

read the rite the right way 

and read

the passage

please

and freely feel free to eyeball roll behind your skull cracked coconut if you feel so inclined

here, i’ll even answer some of the questions you’ve been mailing me since september 

so did i bid my father farewell again? did i worship a torch tip? did i worship a shipment of scented sin drips? did i pay a sippy cup portioned price for a fishy cracker-sized smile? because i sure do feel deep inside the settling soon and i should be going away anyway. but i’ll continue as all of us always do

reused abused recycled and shortfused confusion is the live i live in lividly

it touts aloof a toof tethered tight to a looth tooth

a tooth is looth i tether tie it to the truth and pull

that shining doorknob and the blood shining elevator door style out of my shining mouth starring shining jack nicholson and shining shelley duvall walking backwards in the snow retracing my steps to stay safe from the kitchen knife maniac in my mind

growth and distraction from the reused abused recyced shortfused confusion settling in my shoes wet from the rain.

 but then there’s middle name lorraine. hello middle name lorraine. 

i’ve just opened my eyes and there you are

hairdryer blasting high my wet rain falling shoes warm

this whole entire time 

but then a buzzing occurs followed by a puff of black smoke from your  hairdryer and you know what that means

the borders of closed captions continuously ketch snug between one way of life and another

still hovering in the imposter’s inner dialogue

their eyelid darkness

their fruit fly mouthwash swishswashing piehole

heavy waking where one dream wanders and atom bomb bam

the memory of father’s records (skip skip skip) spinning out of control in an inner spindle of kindling wood combustion against the garage door breaking into pieces into the fear

the fear of being pawned off

or shipped to washington

from oregon

from california

oh the memory and the same feeling i attach to so many others like it. oh how it’s punctuated by the guilt of a slamming piano. oh how i wish i could rid of the sound in the space that jumps forth from the walls in our skull cracked coconuts froth filled and fantastic. oh so sorry and disgustingly so, eeni meenie mini moh, catch a tiger by its etch-a-sketch self portraiture capacities using magnets

i mean toe.

i do speak of magic magnets, though,

on ocelot occasion

and the magic between everyone in this room

on ocelot occasion

and everyone in this tomb

on ocelot occasion

and everyone in this godforsaken heaven on earth

 that’s what i consider it to be or at least when the coconut’s cracked in half i do consider it to be

on ocelot occasion.

oh but how i love the animals so. oh how i see myself in a toad,

in a monkey,

in a hamster,

in a a canary,

in a fruit fly who sucks on hardened cow dung.

in a screech at the drop of a lung and the phonograph needle plunging on a record  skip skip skips the gaping wound falling deep into the armchair crying and perks its ears to the errs and oars of its past setting the stage for a bacon wrapped crackling record skip memory record skip and scoring the contempt i hold for mine own tongue skip and oh

i am surrounded by dinner guests 

here, vulture these remains, they are my offering to you

the offering of fleshy worth from white brittle bones. from these white brittle bones we are able to say the word was and the word this.

so let us investigate the word was and the word this. 

this we know for sure was a panic attack, this we know for sure was a wiggly worm at the end of a stick, this we know for sure was the confession of an iguana, this we know for sure was the application of mayonnaise skin lotion, this we know for sure was an octopus way of going about things, this we know for sure was style over some stuff, this we know for sure was the dedication to the fact that if spiders had a flag for their species it would probably be of a web, and  this we know for sure was the application of fake solutions to the fake problems we’ve constructed for ourselves altogether, and this

lies! the fruit fly is filled with fruit lies! the fruit fly is filled with nothing but fruit fucking fruit lies! it sucks on an acrimboldo cornhusk ear trapped in a rolled up paper cup cone wineglass filled full of apple. cider. vinegar.

may. it. soak.

through. your. tongue.

may. it. make.

your. nose. run.

and run and run and run and run and run  and run and skip

[milesatticusmartin]

Central Nervous System

The blood pressure-risen is running the attack of customer satisfaction back

And the GM is threatening your survival with rules and regulations regularly

The scrambling breadcrumb presidential bidders are compensating imagination with veneer here,

And clinging to vague unity platitudes like a virtue would be monochrome alone

Winning feels tied to Darwinian lies like rallying cries for a bigger bank account size

And lately there’s a science for a creep inside their sheets’ idle weight boundlessly

Losing the faculty to inactivate vanity from a fate to follow a value borrowed in a space that’s hollow

Sadistic shallow-shadowing shows of macho manufacturing factoring in

Sin akin to baths within a tub of gin when skin begins to thin and spin again

That’s when the plot’s been lost a lot and tossed about a bit with holes and clots

Blocked and caught in knots and thoughts squeezing circulation off enough to stop

Brain busts and noggin pops pavement parading apart from the posse purring feline

At the top of the food chain complaining perhaps that it’s raining and the sap is gorilla glued to you

Immobilizing movement mostly, politically sparking balking and booing while we buoy a boat capsizing constitutionally continually 

And the applied industrial psychologist talent developer producing motivation maximization 

With the organizational consultant concocting collaboration saturation where introspection is checked and suspect

Chomsky chatters anarchy harmony humorously luminously. Subordinates coordinate on ordinates of posts marked in stars, labor laws and leisurely leafs fail to fall profit margins and all.

UBI rings a bell in the vantablack hell, spilling the sun on alcoholic buses away

Ten-hour testimonies bemoan the throne’s laundry list of political risks

While the compromised senator censures the reach of speech beefed with teeth on a leash on a neck

Writing spec scripts for class grips that eclipse the fixed bits of imbalanced relationships that challenge courage and corrupt the cures for what secures what’s mine and yours immaterially always

[milesatticusmartin]

The Rest of Room by Miles Martin

The hideaway door is locked located into the tininess of a bathroom grooming sink station

Seals bark through the intimacy of the steamed shower window tinted white clouded

Privacy spurts from the faucet with cold sea life conversation warmed by rubber in water disquieted

Yellow tiles styled atop wood cabinets boxed before a toilet bowl brooding beyond boiled hands scalding in the stream

Cardboard cylinder splays naked nuzzling crumpled tissue papers grocery bagged in a trash bin before the floor

And the mirror makes clearer the face full of fear critiquing the contours endlessly 

A steel rod is railed and wrung with towels hung grey wool and full-soaked slouching heavy awaiting washing

So the honeycomb soap glistens carmel-colored with chamomile scent vanilla-tingling germs invisible alive in sanitation’s anxiety eyes

While triple-bladed razors rust in rushing sways across outer dermal layers amongst foaming cream against follicles amassed

Pipes clog when hair clunks tangle colonized at the tube’s lowest curve, sink-flooding, escaping through the emergency exit drain, near the rim

Toothpaste dried as chalk-like crust liquifies and loosens, mixing stuck stagnant contents composed alone of blockage into impurity

Mold grown of moisture accumulation laughs black and green much to the chagrin of the wet footprint stain impressed upon the shower mat

Rhythmic dripping drops upon tub ceramics at the echelon that skeletons expand pores, deflate hairs, and inhale airs amongst pounds of drips

Hands lather in bodily crevices maneuvering fingers in odorous pockets to expel and massage secretions of muscles tender and aching

The teeth of a black comb directs threads back off forehead grease to shape into the symmetry of lines running Northwest like homesickness 

Corn kernels are bristled in the jerking motion to transform into pearls shining while the tongue’s stench is rubbed away with fennel and myrrh

Eye sockets pocket crust and lashes curl bush-like to cover sight when rising requires scrubbing stuff enough to see right

Scissors snip pubes and pits and weight that hangs among the private parts between poking pins like skin held hostage screaming

Dying the roots and blotching with rouge cheeks flushed with foundation shine with solid hue imbuing the the visage artfully

You open the trap and suck in the tap to taste the fall that runs through sewage afterwards underground where then it’s reused in agriculture

Painting your lips with the end of a stick like raspberry, pressing the top to the bottom and pouting to preview its design

Eyebrows are plucked some using your own thumb to keep it all still for the uproot twinge

While vibrating trimmers cause the trembling smooth to twinkle brunette specks revealing zit dots and micro cuts beaconing red under the sheared beard till it be healed

[milesatticusmartin]

[milesatticusmartin]

[milesatticusmartin]

[milesatticusmartin]

[milesatticusmartin]

[milesatticusmartin]

[milesatticusmartin]

Replica - Oneohtrix Point Never

[milesatticusmartin]

Ace of Spades - Motorhead

[milesatticusmartin]

The Dreaming - Kate Bush

[milesatticusmartin]

Bee Thousand - Guided By Voices

[milesatticusmartin]

F# A# ∞ -  Godspeed You! Black Emperor!

[milesatticusmartin]

Pacific Ocean Blue - Dennis Wilson

[milesatticusmartin]

Heroes - David Bowie