George Orwell from Revenge is Sour (9 November 1945)

The desire may have diminished, but the anger remains. And there is a sweet satisfaction in knowing that they know that I could and would, and that the means and skills to do so are heavily ingrained. 

Barren rocks and sand, Bear & Fox held hands,
held like a timber hitch, held candles to the sun
Both faint and fading fast, they walked on, windward
kept time with a pocketmouse, mouths kept mostly shut
Thought broke the silence like a bone

FOX: [half-moaning] “you’ve worn me like an albatross,
I’ve only slowed you down.
You could’ve long traded in your braided crown by now
you could’ve found that Anabaptist girl you always used to go on about
As we rode in circles on our bicycles;

we walked on balance beams
the audience cheered for us
We burned like fevers under carriage hats
hid behind Venetian masks
In our human costumes
We stood like statues once in shepherd’s check
we’ll both be decked in herringbone,
wrapped border drab around already broken ironstone”

BEAR: “But I’ve seen these cliffs before,
St. Agnes brought her palm branch to the hospital
looked upward lest the charm had fled
from my brother’s breathing bed
And when he died I shut his dogtooth violet eyes:
He looked just like me
climb on down and see
they laid him on the rocks below
there’ll be enough to fill your cup for days;
I’ll stay up here and rest.
[aside] We’ll fly in straight lines as from carronades
we’ll crash like tidal waves, decimate the islands
As our hollowed lumber falls like water, ends where I start
In that tattered rag shop back in Asbury Park

Look how soon my hands won’t move
but if you’ll improve, we’ll all improve
Sixty feet and my feet won’t move
but if you’ll improve, we’ll all improve
Forty feet, my legs won’t move
but as you improve, we all improve
Fill our den with acorn mast,
I’ll wake before the salmon pass
Ten foot more and nothing moves”

This is a fantastic new album. I’ve been spending a lot of time analyzing these songs when I should be concentrating on other things. 

Joshua and I have had a few lengthy conversations about the album so far. Perhaps it’ll be my obsession for awhile. I have some drawings in mind…

Rose Kennedy

there are few days where i do not feel as if i am nothing more than cannon fodder. today is one, the consistent throbbing along the right, parietal lobe is a nice reminder.

i’ve disappeared again.