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jackpines

by mountain wasp

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1.
i thought i could save you from the river. but the ice cracked under my weight. i sunk like a stone in water logged wool. and i was not afraid.
2.
i don't believe we'll make it out of this winter. and when they find us in the snow slick car. your tapes will narrate our existence accents that belong in go train announcements. the very hardest of 'r's. the ice will jam our doors shut. the plows will further entomb us in the ditch. i'd rather be faced with death than go with you between halifax and winnipeg. the very thickest of scars. so i keep my hands clenched to the wheel. while you change faces with phone calls. breathe on the glass. and write about the perils of us.
3.
shoved my hands into my hood because it's cold. while fumbling in through the back. stood by the road after dark and the steady strobe of lights. they made me feel like i was moving. you were owl eyed, over confident. as you stumbled in from the outside. your face hovering like a planet. awash with autumn flush. it made me feel like i was moving. and i've had enough already of you and your best wishes. and i've had enough already of nothing coming easily for us. you lock the door to the bottom floor. and play me music through the worn boards. and i pretend that i don't listen. with my ear pressed to the wood. but each beat of my heart is like a drum and it screams, "come home, come back, i am here. you made me feel like i was moving."
4.
muggy summer nights. i sleep out by the river. water's getting low now and the banks smell like rot. when we were younger i'd chase crickets by the creek. he came outta nowhere. said he'd been watching me. i tasted mud and cried and she was there. i'm sure of it. digging in like a tick in your skin. tanned arms above the eel grass. beetles inch themselves over my mountain hands. and i bury my selves amongst grains of sand. copper taste behind my teeth. and tiny sacrifices for belief. pray son for relief. well i guess that's love i guess that's love in the cat tails. i guess that's love.
5.
and they won't love you like i do. no body of yours could move the load i do for you. they won't care for the things i've done cause i love you dear. it's fine, she's just outta town it's fine. don't you see? this is the best plan. i keep your worries on the back of my hand. tuck your life into my pocket, keep you safe from harm with me.

about

This is a story about the worst summer of your life as told to you by your inner dialogue and your kidnapper.

to keep up with me, my shows, and other stuff, check out my folk routes page: folkroutes.org/profiles/mountainwasp

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released February 16, 2011

written, recorded, played and planned by rowan bee.

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mountain wasp Saint Hyacinthe, Québec

Mountain wasp is chasing the taste and measuring it in skulls.

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