We’ve updated our Terms of Use to reflect our new entity name and address. You can review the changes here.
We’ve updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.

yonkala

by yonkala

/
  • Streaming + Download

    Includes high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more. Paying supporters also get unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app.
    Purchasable with gift card

      name your price

     

1.
this is my apology I haunted your house. I hung on the banister, hazy and half-silent. the presence you sensed in your hallways was me. the wind that wrapped your throat was me. but you were unhappy in that armchair, slacks slung over the back. no clinging belt to kiss your fat. you were sweating with desire. the ring burned your body and I thought you were alone- no, that was me when she clung to the crib waiting for the photographer to capture her. tiny specks of light and airbrush snuck in each camera snap, snap snapped your back and cracked me, I stole your pants. eyes emerging from the water weight, I saw myself alive again. the familiar fabric of your pants-pocket housed riches. I used your money to buy cheap rings. convincing bits of gold and silver could crowd my hands. you know how some rings are- they squeeze the flesh. my fingernails are angry, they scratch the surface of nice men's thighs and leave light red traces. where we peeled our skin. but it was good to feel my own flesh again. it was good to feel my own flesh again. it was good to feel my own flesh again.
2.
among the whispers and the wax-piss; among the great leaves of the Northern knights, I am crawling, ephemerally, eternally, I never learned to walk. do not ask me to lift a lightning bolt of leg, keys jangling like a foam chain- don't ask for my breath. I lost it long ago, among the gentle gusts of gods-gone-wrong, among the children laughing at my ugly, with the habits, horrors, and the general anxiety. I don't know. it isn't something I can just tell you about. there was no start and finish to it. do not ask for the growling valleys, the wallpaper's shell, the wheat-like consistency, the golden shits I took and the tears I built an orchard with for you. this is not pathetic. this is a reckoning for radical change.
3.
waiting for the experimenter, a glorious, glowing blood-hound hobbles down the street. his simple breathing looks like smiles. how should I know what to do when I remember what this is? that shining paradox that removes our birth-names, turns us on our heads like monkey-bar hangers. oh, they make the truth look so ominous; none of us want to stop and pet it like a passing puppy-dog. has the experiment already started? have they been watching me read poetry under my breath like ordered blessings? wondering where I came from with my flaming head? how much longer must I wait til I see flamingos necking, just to tease me for my ill intentions, for the heart I did not know was due south, for the elephants wading by water troughs, feeling wise?
4.
sometimes I feel entrapped in my eyes, lying down in bed, I feel like I'm in a case pushing at the lid. if you think about working while it wanes and waiting while it waxes you feel less uptight and tied up bout your time and tits and taxes. talent isn't valiant, it's a touch you get to know like pinky pricking on a thorn. sometimes I feel like I am the worst, why do I have to feel so bad? the disappearing act isn't a love you carry in your heart, but in your head love takes control of itself, the chair falls they plan their escape.
5.
my bubble blown all out the trampoline and he lets me jump into his arms, oh I love that boy, oh yeah because he is there for me. and my dog is so soft under my hand, I wanna pet him and then I look up brand names. because my arms aren't in my body these days my arms make me feel like I've gone crazy, oh but you know, my dog's ear is here to stay.
6.
among the sunken concrete, encaved as an eye-socket, among the giant looming shadows of my accent, I am crawling, ephemerally, eternally, questioning self-pity and pride, questioning anything made of words. don't teach me how to walk, don't! I never asked for privacy. I lost it, no, released it, into the galloping lake gaping open like a desperate mouth, like my desperate mouth, like my desperate. my excrement is as gorgeous as a storm. I'm praying for you with my laughter; my palms wonder if you will even kneel. do you think walls between stalls make us any less close? giant looming shadows! giant looming shadows! do not ask for my breath. I lost it long ago. it's not like I planned it all out. I became comfortable with the vast not-knowingness of it all, some devil's constant doubt of my powers, the lack!
7.
the breeze blows through my blouse like a lustful apparition. i am haunting my own house excavating cold cognition I was two heirloom tomatoes and a pair of earring hoops screaming over damp potatoes and the sinsemilla soups the cat was quick to quiver she was strung out on fresh air. and the bed-sheet seemed to shiver though I was not passing there for a dinner decked in death every hallway fills with breath.
8.
and I said, take me down where the leaves are growing, where the leaves are showing me where to go.

credits

released April 6, 2015

the poetic and vocal stylings of Sabrina Ross
guitar Brian Michalak and Adam Lavendar

album art by sab

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

yonkala New York

contact / help

Contact yonkala

Streaming and
Download help

Report this album or account

If you like yonkala, you may also like: