1. |
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You've got to open yourself up.
What the hell are you doing so low, so closed?
Wasting time.
You're talking like a hermit again,
go hide, go cry,
see if the rest of us pay you mind.
O God get over yourself now,
say a word or two that doesn't bear on you,
wasting time.
Your hands are in your pockets again,
that's fine, go whine,
see if the rest of us stand in line.
Get up and out of bed
get out of your own head
when a body stops moving they call that dead.
I see where you're at
feeling neat as a gnat
like there hasn't been a God since the world was flat.
But the truth is, look,
life is lived on a hook
and you shake yourself free at your own risk.
[Though his legs are twenty-five
he can't be more than twelve
and already he's screaming his son's name
so dolefully. The way he moves his hands
like a romance novelist typing on a typewriter,
or sways as dazed as a dreamed-of emu:
no, this one can't be twelve. He's not a boy at all in fact
but a university girl, the sort who knows just where to
put her hairclip
and sighs the sign of a river's uneven bed.
She snaps her hand at an error, like a banknote
picked up by the wind, but it's flown. And now she flies after it, leaving all but that note behind.
Hunched on the bench is a solitary man--
he came in grumbling and he'll leave grumbling
no matter how fine a revelation he comes up with
and if he repents at all, it will be only to rest his fingers]
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2. |
Daughters Now, Motherly
02:17
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Sing for me, quietly
let no one hear you outside of me
talk about nothing but short-term memory.
Fold yours hands, rest your feet,
melt all that brass and battery,
this calls for nothing less than the wind’s flattery.
No flash photography
Find us the darkest room you’ve ever seen
Make it so the nearest light is light years away from me.
Daughters now, motherly
come down and put your arms under me
lift me up slow so the whole world has to see.
Prattle and coddle me,
humming that bottomless melody
the one where my effort gets an E for eternity.
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3. |
A Protest Song
02:23
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4. |
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I’m so broke
It’s not funny
But you’ve got all your money saved
And you love me.
Outstanding loans
And awful credit
But you told me forget it you’d
Wipe the slate clean.
My girl
Let’s me have her car
Even when I travel far
It’s no big deal
And my friends,
Whenever they’re in town
She stays at her parents house
And that’s for real
Weekdays
She’s out on the job
I wake up at one o’clock
And fix a drink
And just when
I feel inspired
She comes home all tired out
You know, it makes me think
Well maybe
We’re not meant to be
This just isn’t right for me
I need some space
But every time
You come crying
Baby let’s keep trying I’ll
Change my ways
It’s ok
I’m only far away
Just wire me my pay
Think of me and pray
and tell the kids that I said, "Hey."
Hey, don’t you fade away
I wouldn’t last a day
When I say stay you stay
And I’m begging you to stay
Stay
I’m so broke
It’s not funny
But you’ve got all your money saved
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Todd Portnowitz New York, New York
From 2004 - 2009 Todd Evan Portnowitz performed as singer/songwriter in the Florida band Clock Hands Strangle, recording two LPs, Redshift/Blueshift (2007 Team Grizzly) and Distaccati (2009 Chocolate Lab). He now performs and records as a solo artist out of New York, NY ... more
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