maroon drapes over streets a talk full of love comparisons over the rocks stirring these cubes of ice unassured step into silence maroon drapes over streets city lights our mouths tight closed bring together a sense of oneness slow come photographs in a dark room city lights maroon drapes over streets towering a thought I meant to forget no one seems to make me smile the same tell me all of this without words you can cover the microphone maroon drapes over streets

Drapes Over It

are we even close to having something? something to hold onto temptation and waterloo a passing motion of my arms simple and true finding the new isobar and our depth

Isobar and Our Depth

I guess it took me years to figure out my eyesight was a problem seeing things remotely the same way isn't remote change of scenery or just a blink am I connected with the life I had so early on? or a recent standing arrival It was so dark on arrival

We Watch Blackbeat Movies

project featuring the songwriting team of jeremy fisher (guitars, bass, keys) and brent fuscaldo (vocals, guitars, keys, drums).  recorded 1997 in north carolina on four-track.  

Miami Heat and The Team

an editor soundscapes the lies or lying down believing he exists underwater and a see-through shirt out to pay respect to a landmark that kept me living bulletproof glass I can see through whatever is proof?  believe he exists in a coin machine diving into the slot for an hour or so smoke-filled speech and it's breathtaking lying down with a view

Cicada

it's the second time today I've found myself in a public restroom trying to shorthand the short letter on the stall absorbing all the beauty hope hits hard like a repercussion thin-skinned so the bleeding ripples skims across the dry sand from shore to shore every idea is novel and every last minute counts wade without tarpaulin weight without you on the brain waiting the last second 

Longshoreman

hysterical what a word for a girl she likes to live in my binoculars sun damper in Chicago and the faces don't change fizz and flatter people going in different directions every odd street or so moving across like waves I'm such a skeptic when I don't feel and I'm feeling right now now write feeling ashtray full of persistence and shy of everything she likes to go undercover she likes to live under covers now write feeling lambent what a word for a girl she likes to live in my binoculars with still world on the outside and the faces don't change

Philander

the only place in the world a sign would read "misthrows and local box errors" lifelong precursor to the big local box just like that white spot behind a wristwatch I want marks to show people and to see my address on returned postcards and never again read in a shadow just write in the dark staring out of a window lit by town flaring distant newsflash think of the souls that don't think I dream of an unsigned canvas and who it belongs to what a coincidence we'll share the land together one day with thoughts of stepping into the light on the dance floor for just one time bringing the morning a new time margin only an hour into my escape of the party-goers stretching out between the miles the next twenty-four before going under flaring distant newsflash we'll share the land together one day

Observation Deck

Audio Palmbleau

two bulbs above me like he said of fiction so limiting the cheapest decoratives a look like that can be so expensive like tourists we mate with our eyes a pretty long drawn out sonata the guilt sets in opaque: he feels just like a model he is the everyday misnomer wait just wait like he said of fiction his time is coming... his time is coming uprise coming 

passeul move