Try to forget,
But in the bedroom,
Synapses fire,
Smoking alone,
See flowers taped around the pole,
One final flight,
To turn the lights out,
And numb the pain by breaking your bones,
You saw solutions and you froze,
We settle down,
Heartbeats boom in stereo,
Expound the lies,
From some pulpit, just for show,
The ready-made science of your immortal soul,
I tune it out,
I tune it out,
Four paragraphs in the poem,
Internalize what you know,
Next year the cross is a stone,
A stone,
And sang until all voices give out,
‘N17’ and ‘Say it Ain’t So,’
Thought of the flowers 'round the pole,
Went to the grave,
Leaving the plectrum,
A hillside breathes,
A lonely poem,
Stood for a time,
Then left for home,
Reset the bone,
No comfort from the stereo,
Standing beneath a 3rd floor balcony window,
Swelling eyes,
I kneel down to touch the stone,
I tune it out,
I tune it out,
Buried in the sea, but buried.
Highlands propped by excess luma.
Small wells.
Milestones marked to form an orderly passage.
Culture knit with accord of resurrection.
Postures of strength.
Grip on the strap with a pyramid stare.
Vexed with lack of diffusion.
Grief not plasticky, not smooth.
Stark return to the mission.
Steps set, halo imposed.
No wrongs written.
You were poor and unhappy.
You dug our way out.
Buried with the soil, and buried.
Four paragraphs in the poem,
Internalize what you know,
Next year the cross is a stone,
A stone.
Hopscotching from jangle pop and post-hardcore to math rock and shoegaze, these Minnesota rockers have a gift for musical multitasking. Bandcamp New & Notable Feb 29, 2024
Hayes Noble's version of indie rock blends the blown-out textures of shoegaze and the energy of punk with catchy songwriting. Bandcamp New & Notable Feb 21, 2023