cosmic death blues

from by Harrison Lemke



It’s the kind of bitter evening
that demands an explanation,
so you bundle up and leave the house
against your doctor’s recommendation.
Broken glass and plastic wrap
in the gravel-speckled snow:
there’s nothing worthless
but thinking makes it so.

Space walled up like murder victims
in disused retail buildings;
naked broken mannequins,
hands raised in absolution;
flapping scraps of ads for things
we wanted long ago:
there’s nothing worthless
but we have called it so.

Steal into the graveyard
through an adjoining city park,
say a prayer for people sleeping
in the earth so cold and dark.
Names no one remembers
and names that you well know:
there’s nothing worthless
but thinking makes it so.


from some advent songs, released November 8, 2017




Harrison Lemke Austin, Texas

tape-hiss symphonies to God

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