Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan Sasong

In the city I wander,
worms get smashed under;
all those people are busy with things.
And here I go crazy,
and there I get lazy
like a calf that is growing six legs.
My body’s slowly figuring out how
it fits into moments of missing.
Steady in my thoughts,
I soften the tight knots;
my stomach’s alright though it’s twisting.

But on a beautiful surf I found
a seaweed person
in hot light, reflected green on the sand.
I was a little uncertain
that some things might hurt me;
in the night I hid my eyes with my hands.

Then off of the breeze I heard
a sudden burst and
in fright imagined thumps on the land.
There is a house on the trees where all
the shadows work and
they don’t make their plans your plans.

And maybe I’m naïve
to say you should just breathe
and float out of pain when it’s hissing.
‘Cause here I sit cring
when she’s not here [I am];
I can’t handle a moment she’s missing.
Then I eat with my people
and I laugh at the steeples
‘cause Hell is my own bad thinking.
I know that the rain [moves]
and innards are dream pools
and diamonds are days with fire.
And you held the sneeze
for as long as you could
just to cast it to the sneezing void.
I think I have a disease
that makes my hearing imperfect,
but at least I make some wonderful noise.

And back in the trees
I saw a shadow’s birth but
no one said it’s a girl or a boy.
You can take all you want
from another person;
in the end you find you lose your voice.

In the city I wander,
worms get smashed under
those streets where all those people are busy.
Here I go crazy,
but there I feel lazy
like a calf that is growing six legs.
My body’s slowly figuring out how
it fits into moments of missing.