#Poetry Wed: “Here’s Where You Can Legally Own a Wolf” by Charlie Clark

“Where in fall they burn the dirt of Robert Frost’s own grave.
Where they call his ashes dragon and sift through them for teeth.
Where smoke is the only produce of the factories.
Where the man whose jawbone throbs must punch himself to sleep.
Where dawn’s the sun hung above a field of blood-wet greens.
Where the word blunt is just as violent as it seems.
Where grammar is the mutilated cousin of the breeze.

Read the rest of the poem at Tinderbox.

Tegan and Sara: Love You to Death

Some bands have made such consistently good music for so long, I sometimes take them for granted. I haven’t posted about Tegan and Sara since before the great crash of ’04 wiped out Muruch’s early archives. Their new album, Love You to Death, is a vivid reminder of what made me love the Canadian singer-songwriter twins so much in the first place. Their trademark immersion of lyrical depth in summery dream pop, such as in “Walking with a Ghost” and “Where Does the Good Go,” is alive and well in new songs “Faint of Heart,” “Boyfriend,” and “Dying to Know.”

Buy @ Amazon

Tegan and Sara Official Site

The Claypool Lennon Delerium on The Late Show w/ James Corden Video

Holy hell, I love The Claypool Lennon Delerium! The duo are Primus frontman Les Claypool and Sean Lennon, and they combine the best, funkiest, quirkiest elements of Primus, The Grateful Dead, and Reverend Peyton’s Big Damn Band. Here’s their performance on The Late Show w/ James Corden…

The Claypool Lennon Delerium Official Site

#Poetry Wed: “The Abstract Humanities” by Sandra Simonds

On August 14th, 1971, when they arrest Justin Smith on Rose St.,
his neighbors don’t know he’s a subject
in the Stanford Prison experiment, and Justin himself
doesn’t know that within 36 hours of dunking his head
into that fake cop car that he will have a mental breakdown
even though he keeps telling himself “This isn’t real.”

Do not write “luminous glyphs” for it is
overly Romanic. Do not write
a love poem to Karl Marx, for you might lose your job.
Do not talk about compassion, for this is not
a temple. Do not use the word “tender,”
for this is art and art must be
cold like money or a fish. Do not
say you’re a Jew,
for you never know who is reading.

It has been fifteen years since my mother
tried to kill herself. There is no way
into the abstract
humanities. In the experiment, Todd
beats Justin. You can only follow
me so far, but when we get to the river, Horatio,
you will not be able to cross through my
particular hourglass…

Read the rest of the poem at The Seneca Review (pdf)

Sandra Simonds Official Site