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I've been dreaming lately


That I'm stuck inside a glass box


Under the constellations of Grand Central 


With some kind of illness on my tongue


And the people passing by are laughing


As my fingernails tear loose from their beds


And my teeth come tumbling out, like bricks from my head


The world is watching me come to pieces 


And all they want to do is laugh, laugh, laugh


"There's the dead boy now! Watch closely, my son!"


But I'm waking up before the crowd can get my name


I never want to sleep, because I miss so much of you


Your absence, my disease, is killing off the view


Of a city that held so much of my potential


Before squandering it off like a peddler 


Numbering my numerous deaths as sequential


I'm done wishing on things that only fucking run


Numbers, stars, and love, goodnight all, I'm done

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I'm being picked up


By the reverse side


Of drunken gravity


And smashed back down


When her arms give out


Losing teeth on the concrete


Like piano keys spilling out


Of an old black bag


Where we used to carry our hearts


I always keep my shoes on


Just in case


We have to run from this


And head straight for the grave


Made a coffin for a bed


Buried myself inside my head


And if you hear the bell


Don't try to dig me up


This is a lesson learned by lovers


From the sugar spit spat by time


That we're nothing but mangled bodies


Who continually fail to align


But we try to keep straight


With whiskey and waxflower breath


But we're walking in circles


Because we favor one foot


Like property lines we've crossed


Rivers we can't afford to drink


We're wilting like gardens


We're ships that god can't even sink


Hallelujah, I'm born again


In the black heart of the tulips


I never bought you in the end


Bring me to the end 

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We're in a perpetual confusion of tongues


Tripping over phrases until we're raw in the lungs


Can you imagine how many times I'd be hanged


If you could understand the words I've been saying?


We've condemned honesty to make room for lidocaine


Our hearts have been removed to make clouds for more rain


 


I'm scattered abroad upon the face of all the earth


With a half-life of never since I survived birth


No gutters to follow away from all the lights


Where I can tap morse code into the mains and the pipes


I'm saying, "We've been lied to, I love you. I need you now."


But I don't scream for long enough for the code to be loud


 


Let's build a tower and call it the end


Separate at the bridge where the train tracks bend


You're living in the reflections of the glass


I'm dreaming aloud while lying on my back


I've been looking for a reason to smash every mirror


A Cassandra complex for a girl who's never near


 


You can't change the future, you've already trapped the past


If we're taking turns speaking in tongues, let me go last


You'll never hear a damn word I say, you'll never listen


Because you're surrounded by your demons


And I'm burning alive, just beyond your vision


 

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Cosmic radiation through dime-store drinking straws


Blisters on my heels that refuse to heal


A black hole aftermath when the room depressurized


All our novels falling from poorly supported shelves


Onto floors I've claimed as my own


There is no comfort for a perpetually broken boy


Like me


 


My broken back, your useless literature


Your discarded gifts, my dead flowers


My sandstone knuckles, your lilac candles


We're a god damn mess, and we're only getting worse


 


I used to live where the coyotes could get to me


And deer stopped to bow at the sight of my hands


Pulled by my hair through the muck and the mud


Until I ran towards the rising sun, towards you


I've fashioned a crown from the stems of white roses


And the pedals are all turned to rot 


What kind of king I am, sleeping on the floor


When you left the door open, it scared me like war


 


A mouth in the wall that's lost all but one tooth


You could turn the deadbolt, but you never do


And I constantly wonder, how much electricity I must build up


To lay down with you once, and levitate you out of your head


How much electrostatic glow I'd have to project


To keep you safe in bed


 


 

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There is no way to win through


The glass into the light beyond


Where the electricity runs with the hum of a song


That no one has sang since before we were born


While moths crawl the length of my arms


And leave prints of their wings in dust


Up and down the place on my neck


That I never want you to touch again


I wish there'd been some kind of chemical on your lips


That could have scarred me, branded my collarbones


A scarlet letter to wear for my shame


Not shame of you, but shame of me


For letting how my heart felt dictate what I believed


A tyrant inside a ribcage, just waiting to ravage the body outside


And I know that I'd destroy you if given half the chance


My hands were not meant to save anything


Not you, not anyone else


They're better off at my sides, being eaten alive by moths


An exhibit of failed intent for the crowd to laugh at


They'd call me a monster, a beast with one back


A spine that doesn't bend enough to retract


So it's become a cross with no god to make it a metaphor


I'm a shitty church that no one prays in anymore


If you fell now, you'd fall for a leper


And when you dragged me anywhere, I'd keep dropping pieces


Until there was nothing left but a trail of me 


For you to follow all the way back home


So what am I meant to love if not you?


An attic with no roof, a gathering of moths around my little light?


They've no feelings for me to hurt, hearts too simple for me to break


Just let me lead myself down into the cellar with no floor


And fall into the abyss, where Virgil waits whistling 


Even if sometimes you lay awake at night


And think that maybe all this drivel is just what you needed


To keep the wolves from the door


But it's not, it's just the blood soaking the lawn


Let the moths come, let them gnaw at my nail beds


If it meant I couldn't ruin your life any more


Than the ones who came before


And left the window open 


When they vanished

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Theserpentthecharmer-1586443

As always, download for Hi-Res.


Bored at work and have always wondered what a visual representation of this would look like, so...


A not so informative, and oddly confusing infographic of the 2014 Resident Curators.


Please feel free to message me if I messed something up.


Enjoy!


 


P.S. If this seems rough, it's because I never intended to release it, actually. But it turned out okay enough that I said "Ah. Fuck it."


P.P.S I was informed that I accidentally spelled MarieIv's name with an L instead of an I. That's my bad. 

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Film: Red Wires


Released: December, 1988


The sophomore effort of Canadian-born director Tomas Ellis-Warsburg, Red Wires was released in select theaters throughout Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, and British Columbia. The screenplay, written by Kentucky playwright Thistle Wickens, was originally intended for off-broadway theatrical release, but was never recognized as a particularly "stage-worthy" piece. Red Wires is the tale of Tommy, a young boy, and his twin sister Hilda, who search the five boroughs of New York looking for their father, who mysteriously disappears after developing a cure for Bowen's Disease (A rare skin disorder). The journey is only decided upon after Tommy and Hilda discover a secret room in their father's apartment which houses evidence of a conspiracy to thwart his medical efforts.


Although claimed by some critics to be "Lackluster" and "An egotistical, pedantic romp through New York City", the film generally received positive reviews. The most confusing, and somewhat genius, aspect of this film is that it was written by an American, filmed in New York City, but only released to Canadian audiences in select theaters across Canada. The true glory of Red Wires is seen in the outstanding performance by Japanese actress Aiko Ishiguro (Ellis-Warsburg's adopted sister) who plays the ironically named "Aiko", a geisha with (the aforementioned) Bowen's Disease. 


Dense, sometimes confusing, and intentionally dry, Red Wires wins through with its unflinching attention to realism, its showcase of breakout performances, and its several cleverly encoded references to Homer's The Odyssey. Red Wires is a stand-up film that is normally forgotten when discussing Canadian cinema, but it will never truly disappear from the selection of Ellis-Warsburg's greatest works. 

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If I stopped to turn my head, I'd see a road full of crooked crosses.


Knocked down by the wind, the weather.


And I wonder if this is what everyone has been seeing.


This amalgamation of faith lost by something not of man.


We are set to conquer the world seven times over.


And yet we're afraid to tell one another how heavy are our hearts.


I could take all of my fury and bring this city to the ground.


But I couldn't take your hand for more than a moment without shaking.


And I could die knowing that you were here and alive, and die happy.


Our parents are meant to leave us at some point.


We're born to be abandoned, but not before we learn to love.


So we can repeat the cycle, and tell our children how it was. 


Before storms gathered up and ripped at our skin.


Before someone left you alone with your bed and your limbs.


It's how I fear I'll become, if you ever let me try.


I fear that I'm imagining that I'd give you the entirety of the sky.


Maybe I'm weaker than I once thought possible.


And you'd be left once again to fend for yourself.


In the space where ghosts roam restless and alone.


The silhouettes of every man who'd loved you and gone home.


Without the slightest thought that it would break you.


Turn your heart to stained glass.


Pieces that will no longer fit together, but refuse to mend and pass.


I am the giant that wanders in the ocean.


I am the ladders down to hell.


Climb the knives up my spine, meet the bats and the ring the bell.


There's only the words that I've written here to guide me.


There's only the crowd of moments I'll hold in my heart.


You're in them all, you're the centerpiece, you're my art.


And I'll kill anyone who ever hurts you.


Destroy every cross that forces you to carry it.


I'll make a bonfire of them all.


And we'll dance like savages until the cold and the fall.


When we'll go inside and rest and give in.


And those silhouettes, those ghosts, will be gone.


We'll have cast them away, we'll dream before dawn. 

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A chorus of beartraps


Set to


Take the skin


Right off my feet


 


But this body, these bones


Have left me no place else to go


My body, my bones


Are cared for with little hope


 


A choir of canaries


Left to


Sing that hope


Right out of my heart


 


But this body, these bones


Can't hear love in your tone


Your body, your bones


Can't tender these river stones


 


A band of thieves


Trying to


Steal the gold


From your empty veins


 


But this body, these bones


Are trying to wrap around yours


My body, my fragile bones


Felt this as love, not chore


 


A museum of pockets


Asking for


The coin with the saint


To bring me back home


 


But this body, these bones


Aren't mine, they are loaned


Your body, your bones


A love I want, a love I never owned


 


Those bodies, those bones


I am a ghost, one of many clones


Your body, your bones


Bones that will kill me once another man owns


 

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Where the bolts meet the casing


I am riddled with mycotoxins


Black mold built up between my teeth


A hollowed shadow of whomever used to be me


Lilting back and forth like a drunkard


A voice so rough as to strip the screws 


 


My body is an ocean, my organs are the ships


Left to capsize inside the maelstrom of my blood


Vessels on fire being sucked into the waves


There are no men aboard, no women and children


Just empty cabins, lifeboats still lashed to port


Is there anything more pathetic, than a ship without a name?


 


You were the wind that moved this mechanical mass


East and up and out towards the sea


But I'm not sure anymore what fuels the fires


Or whether or not I should eat


Trying to convince myself that you love you, not me


Should be reason enough for me to leave


But I'm not guided by reason, I am a machine


 


I am a mechanized man with little originality


A failed experiment in trying to stay alive


When all I have is an empty birdcage


A pile of feathers and vacant eyes


Maybe I've put too much weight into this


Perhaps I've fallen in love one too many times


 


I'm waging a chemical war with myself


The black residue of lewisite under my fingernails


The cyclosarin breath behind failed attempts to impress


Someone who's better built for better men


And all I want is to be split back into pieces


Rended of all my limbs and buried in different fields


 


I am saddened by a path that's without a start


To convince a girl in yellow to wind my music box heart


 

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It's hard to believe


That we


Become nothing but 


A pile of bones beneath


All our loves and our dreams


Of staying in bed


With someone we held


For the long hours before


The sun ever tried to interrupt


A perfect blue before the light


In a tiny room


I've never tried to stand in


But found myself locked inside


Even when I'm breathing


Outside


And if we could live forever


I don't think I'd want to


Because knowing


We'll one day be parted


Makes the kiss you gave me


More than just the meeting of skin


But a declaration


That you'd waste your little time


Searching with your lips, to find mine


Even if it was empty


A gesture of dark, cheap wine


It wasn't poison, nor divine


Because I had you for a moment


Ones we're constantly losing to fate


That's enough to give me purpose


And grace


If I tried to live forever


And we stood close for all time


Ten minutes would seem like dust


Birds without the wings to climb


I'd rather chase you for my life and fail


Than spend eternity in your bed


And watch the seeds we've sewn grow stale 


 

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I. Rattlesnakes


I was given warning, but I never truly cared


About the holes in my ankle that were never really there


So I bled into the sand and I fell asleep standing up


Like prophets and martyrs, there's blood in your cup


But it's tainted by venom, it's rattled by faith


Let it drip from your chin if you'll ever be changed


Push your fangs through cotton paper


And push your jaw against glass


There's a thousand wells to taint


But there's always fires in the pass


 


II. Death Adders


I'm a cannibal but only by trade


If I have to destroy myself to let you be saved


So many times I've led you into rhymes


Only to wrap around your legs with so many vines


Before you realize that you shouldn't stand here


I'll only poison you if you decide to come near


 


III. Pit Vipers


If there's a god in a heaven, somewhere up there


Show me a sign that I'm meant to be alive


Or pull the fangs from earth, pull the rain from the sky


Am I supposed to believe in fate?


Is there something killing us for a reason?


Let my feet find the soft spots in the slate


The muscles tense before the skin fades to black


Trying to force me to dream before the light comes back


 


IV. Inland Taipans


Yield enough venom to kill a thousand men


But give that dose in one passing kiss


Retract your jaw to make it look like you missed


I've got less than an hour before my limbs start to bend


 


V. Belcher


Ripples in the water that move like a dress


Pushed by wind before the tide goes to rest


You'll come back to find that your friends got me first


One dozen caverns I've churned in the dirt


Graves I dug for former selves that didn't work


When you return, you'll find twelve holes


For twelve bodies of men, who only gave you their soul


 


 


 


 


 

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A bandsaw for a bed, a lathe for a lover.


Her kisses are wounds that I can't afford to cover.


Through the wood-chipper feet first and out into the world.


A mist of the man I used to be, disassembled and unfurled.


What the hell am I supposed to do now?


Now that your absence has sectioned off my loneliness.


Wrapping the pieces up with wax paper and twine.


Head down to the butcher's block where you play tiny strings.


The first thing you'll take is the tongue from my head.


You're afraid of the things I could say to turn you.


Each syllable is, in itself, the thread I need to rebuild.


To sew up all these missing pieces into something resembling myself.


A rough marionette you can dance around.


While I stand on my soapbox and speak of love.


As if it were a small bird that took away with the wind.


And never returned to the perch it had called home.


It's that absence now that leads me to drain and depart.


To unwrap my skeleton's frame and lay my parts down to rest.


For when you return, over the dark grey of the water.


You'll find I've left nothing behind.


Nothing but wax paper and a silhouette of my name.


Glory be to the partitions in my heart, in my veins. 


 


 

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