( via / via )

Class war 2.0.

"After The Poison Summer

I can’t climb this ceiling anymore,
bake me a pie of love or bring me an iron lung,
after the poison summer has gone.

Bride bless the day, the dogs say goodnight,
all my luggage, I send to you,
I can’t climb this ceiling anymore.

Sunday monkey play no piano song,
no piano song, ghost man so close to me
after the poison summer has gone.

Warm smell of policemen rising up through the air,
when the rainbow shaves you clean, you’ll know
I can’t climb this ceiling anymore.

Since she left me the bin of owls puking in my bed,
dead ants are my friends, plowing in the din,
after the poison summer has gone.

A monk swimming, dirty deeds done to sheep,
just brush my teeth before you leave me, baby
I can’t climb this ceiling anymore.

The cattle are lonely, the catalog glowing
the poor lady wakes, and she’s got a chicken to ride
after the poison summer has gone
I can’t climb this ceiling anymore."

--Yoshev Omed

Exomoons around Harriot.

"The night inside a barn owl's wing-hush
is the handshake
of a secret order." --Michael McGriff

High Tech.