Polaroids

Clipping

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    Hands on the casket, hand full of soil
    Hand a rose to the widow
    She lays it tastefully angled down and to the right
    The mahogany and the white contrast nicely, as well as the black tie attire
    The air of this event, somebody was important
    But a distant stare proves too strong to ignore it
    Little window on the ground floor of the chapel
    And a face pressed up against it make fog breath
    Highlights a fading heart
    Raindrops on the hood of the El Dorado
    Her acrylics clickin' on the headlight
    Her bubblegum poppin', her head slightly angled
    Down and to the right
    And her angel pendant danglin' like a lynched bird
    Space for a last prayer, pained like a pinched nerve
    Awaiting a last word, posture reading: Last straw
    Tempered stance of her partner is palpable even out of the frame
    And without her naming his crime
    He must be prostrate like a last prayer awaiting a last word
    Posture reading: Fuck
    Whiteboard, multicolored lines in dry erase
    Roughly angled down and to the right
    This is right before the leap through the open window
    But in the moment it's all smiles and perfectly crowned teeth (perfectly crowned teeth)
    Someone looking secretary, no offense, but that's the air she gives off
    With the pleated skirt and neatly tucked-in blouse (neatly tucked-in blouse)
    Holds a phone as if it were a scarier event
    That these executives who read her work don't even know about (don't even know about)
    And frozen in this pantomime, a moment where it happened
    Time would split off with a fix to make its mighty mountains cry (mighty mountains cry)
    But curled lip and terror eyes, a giveaway of what she hides
    The backside of the picture dated 1929

    All of these photos hidden tucked neatly in a box
    And hidden in a sock drawer or underneath the bed
    Memories are gobos making shadows on the locked present that has been fixed
    So it's best to leave them dead

    Don't bother with it, live lobotomy
    Split the bottle better
    Drink to God and leave the past behind for the fire
    Don't nobody want these polaroids
    Don't bother with it, live the lighter side
    Split the spliff together
    Smoke to God and leave the past behind for the fire
    Don't nobody want these polaroids

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    Hands in the air
    Half eyes wide, half eyes smiling
    And a couple other with they heads covered up, too afraid to look
    The track slopes down and to the right
    Rough guess, two seconds from the top of the drop
    The exhilaration on the faces of the riders
    More than worth the price tag of the print-out
    Which was also way too high
    Time-stamped by mullet length and neon billabong logo
    And fitted cap with hologram sticker on the underside
    That certainly won't last till the ride comes to a stop
    Peace signs and wide grins in the foreground
    And the background is a great powerful cascade
    Of water falling from way out of frame
    Down and to the right
    It's way out of place to say, and way out of time
    But ain't it strange that both these kids are dead?
    Anyway, the deep green of the foliage so definitively wild
    People used to drive to places like this just to escape
    If you look close
    You can see the early fiber optic cables stretching out into the jungle
    The beginning of the end
    A still life in motion, one of those night traffic shots
    The long exposure makes the tail lights stretch ad infinitum
    Down and to the right
    Red tiger striping the city street so it reads raver
    This is before the riots
    Ghostly in the out-of-focus, high rises are rising as they're won't to do
    Contorting just like trees looking for Sun (trees looking for Sun)
    Mostly to the left, you'll notice piling up like nothing new
    The boxes for the shanties that these buildings would become (these buildings would become)
    Cobbled by the potholes
    Here they are before they sunk (are before they sunk)
    Like on hold for glottal stops approaching with the Sun (approaching with the Sun)
    They're choking on the words they never said
    So soon the running from the end of life that no one really figured had begun

    All of these photos hidden tucked neatly in a box
    And hidden in a sock drawer or underneath the bed
    Memories are demons trying to burn the edges of the present that has been fixed
    So it's best to leave them dead

    Don't bother with it, live lobotomy
    Split the bottle better
    Drink to God and leave the past behind for the fire
    Don't nobody want these polaroids
    Don't bother with it, live the lighter side
    Split the spliff together
    Smoke to God and leave the past behind for the fire
    Don't nobody want these polaroids

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