"Madvillany & Other Sacred Texts" (3 of 15)

Incense Store Hours

The votive candles multiplying, burning dusk

To dawn and back again, lamp lit, guiding him

Home, shadows grew long and filled the room

Heard whispers and grew scared, didn't fair

Much better with her there, but who even cares?

One man's problems, fucking around and found

Out, the taste of pavement's nothing to them

Condensation dripping from the ceiling in spurts

Ultrasounds outside of prenatal are never good

The sound of a body left to rot in the backwoods

Bones pop, the fire's hot, sounds like carbon fiber

Seasoning, the audio monitoring software shows a

Series of bangs and then a "Pop!", flatline omens

Tried to mainline the feeling but did a muscle pop

"Bad Moon Rising" inspired "Is The Is Are", lineage

Of squalor, C-Squat burning, set the neighboring

Buildings off, a match held under the dryest tinder

"NOW THAT YOU KNOW

YOU'LL NEVER AN EASIER

WAY OUT"

The muddy middle section requires close listening

Tripping on repetition, unlearned need for progress

Letting it be what it needs

Beat the spread by Q3, knew what that means, only

Two points between paperwork and nada, national

Average mirrors history but our classroom was like

The future, differences melting in white hot heat of

The archives burning around a collective, it was the

Beginning of incredible, dead before dawn, hit me

That things aren't fated, the next savior might be

Still born, tired of the stomach pain, my throat Closed every morning like a spiritual boutique

Light a candle on the street corner, another dead

Lover, fentanyl in the candy, getting used to it now

Get used to it now, life goes on, and death is real