This wallpaper frieze
Doesn't interest me
I've only just noticed
How grey it is
Has the hull been breached
In this forest of teak?
Has the hull been breached
In this forest of teak?
Words drip from the levee
Become hieroglyphic
My eyelids are heavy
And sing soporific
Songs that spiral up like spores
In scales I've never heard before
Songs that spiral up like spores
In scales I've never heard before
I push my head through a spider web
To the smell of freshly-baked bread,
Acres of books whiffing slightly of mould
And pilchards on the draining board
And by my side..
Cyanide!
That greengrocer and I are in cahoots
I paid for both of his Wellington boots
For a fiddle of his foreign fruits
And to run my fingers over his little green shoots
Has the hull been breached
In scales I've never heard before?
Has the hull been breached
In scales I've never heard before?
Introspective, homespun folk tunes from John Donne that feel informed by the sugary bleakness of '80s and '90s indie pop. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 1, 2023
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