chilled embers solemnly crowd on spiced geysers
brass cigars his caprese punctual nighting purse
perturbed icicles are swelt in taped corridors
schumann's focal adjacent to their gores
purported memex is jammed on start signals
sepias paintbrushed on all stoics' lung refills
invalid glovers and unfixed drywall
one-two belted choirs hung on meat hooks tall
cycling atop graveyards where foils once met
to top, there goes detectives prying to bleat
for once she's finished in bowlby incense
there's meant to be chives, of illogical lives
who dared immersions to fold, so that i'm told
the tobu is too chuwo for limelights of flats
and camouflaged croaks resulting in bent belts
to cloak in mantle by ornaments
así van los mil cuentos homónimos atropellados y pinchados, pero ella sigue escribiendo cuentos tirados en botella. por última vez, ¿dónde está el muslo del culpable?
The London trio return with a sequel to 2019's Civilisation I EP, an emotive art-pop suite recorded entirely on vintage hardware. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 28, 2021
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