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heavy boots

by gillian schnurr

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1.
nothing costs a lot if you can't sell it i have my own paperweight to carry we can run and not look back again we can hide forever if you want to i'll pretend to be your girl i'll pretend to be your girl new news from america man that place is fucked up they eat their buzz proper modern stuff do this buy this be this try this what's the point of it? when in the end i'll be your girl in the end i'll be your girl watching tv stations, corporations making money ain't it funny? how they all sell the same things to me attention shoppers nothing ever changes this i know what were you born a thousand years ago? nothing's far away if you can pay for it i'll pretend to be your girl i'll pretend to be your girl watching tv stations, corporations making money ain't it funny? how they all sell the same thing to me attention shoppers we got education, contraception high speed internet connection hey they all sold the same things to me attention shoppers don't ask me what's in a name that's how you got ahead of the game so now you have to deal with the fame shitty buzz cause it wasn't the same don't ask me what's in a name that's how you got ahead of the game so now you have to deal with the fame shitty buzz cause it's not the same shitty buzz cause it wasn't the same shitty buzz cause it wasn't the same well shitty buzz cause it wasn't the same we got education, contraception high speed internet connection hey they all sold the same things to me attention shoppers watching tv stations, corporations make their money ain't it funny? how they all sell the same thing to me attention shoppers
2.
i need to get to you i need to get to you i need to get to you i need to get to you it might be something i say it might be something i write online i need to get to you i need to get to you it might be something i know it might be something i am learning still i just want to be near you i just want to be near you but you live only in your head and you feel so much but you live only in your head and you feel so much and you feel so much i need to get to you and you feel so much i need to get you and you feel so much it might be something i know it might be something i am learning still i need to get to you
3.
Based on a Sylvia Plath poem: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again. (I think I made you up inside my head.) The stars go waltzing out in blue and red, And arbitrary blackness gallops in: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane. (I think I made you up inside my head.) God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade: Exit seraphim and Satan's men: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. I fancied you'd return the way you said, But I grow old and I forget your name. (I think I made you up inside my head.) I should have loved a thunderbird instead; At least when spring comes they roar back again. I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. (I think I made you up inside my head.)
4.
i'm on the floor and i'm following your twitter you've been tweeting from your liver and you ran out of grammar i ran out of the house and started bumping in the mosh pit stammered it- it's over can you quit it with the hashtags? ninety-five opinions and all of them are terrible none of them expressible a hundred forty characters i'm reading too much into it i bet you are a great cook recently we started getting intimate on Facebook late night messaging wonder what its meaning is wake up in the morning discovering it's meaningless i feel like dying you're too easy to lie to i'm at terrible at lying see, that was a lie too that was a lie too (you get it though, right?) i'd never lie to you i'd never lie to you lying on the ground in the middle of the school yard calling you from here would seem i'm trying too hard to impress you i'll just text you pull you in just to reject you you listened to my new song you found it really beautiful totally rebloggable! totally Youtube-able! late night songwriting wonder what its meaning is wake up in the afternoon when everything is meaningless i feel like dying it's so easy to want to i'm terrible at lying you're so easy to talk to so can i talk to you? so can i talk to you? so can i talk to you? (can we talk it through?) so can i talk to you? (can we talk it through?)
5.
time pulls us apart so please have a little heart for these single-celled organisms patching up the past years schisms it was all you could do not to cry when you heard it was not goodbye you heard it was not goodbye you have a funny way of slipping into anterior positions into things that feel so hopeless into things you’ve got to cope with soon or else you're mine to fight i knew your song was mine to write i never got the timing right i never got the timing right it’s always up to me to send you back to where we both began you play along but can’t pretend forever you are slowly bending... i always hope someone will call you're always lonely after all you're always on your own at home always only looking at your phone i wish you’d reach out to me remind me how it used to be remind me there are things worth fighting for and there are words worth writing down they're no good in your head where they’re never heard or read aloud i'm frickin sick of this handicaps and benefits you have a funny way of slipping into anterior position into things that feel so hopeless into things you’ve got to cope with soon i wish you’d reach out to me remind me how we used to be remind me there are things worth fighting for and there are words worth writing down they're no good in your head where they’re never heard or read aloud i'm frickin sick of this
6.
you're so far down the hole you can't look back for light you've got this hope but we both know that you're never quite right are you and a thousand years ago back when i was still your friend you broke can i fix you now? to feel it again your pretty is running fast salty tears and puffy eyes i can't stand to see you sad but i love to watch you cry went for a walk by the old place just to let the news to sink in and i sat in your front yard and i felt it all again

about

I feel sick with mundanity, the faint tired hangover of exhaustion from this morning’s whiskey/coffee fuelled romp, tearing through Oakville’s bright but gray October day. Maybe it was the funeral, or the several inbox messages I’m ignoring, or the pop radio in the room over is too loud, or too banal, and is giving me a massive headache. Maybe my bra fits weird and is too tight and the underwire pokes out and irritates my ribs each time I breathe out, or the cold food I had, over-spiced with rosemary by some hotshot executive chef the restaurant hired to consult on their new menu so they could put his too-white smile and credential on the backs of their menus to impress diners. It could be the lighting in this room, too bright at 60W per lightbulb, times three lightbulbs. I replaced them recently so I am used to only one of them working, at 40W. It feels harsh and surreal, as though my bed is prop dressing on the set of some garish pornographic movie.

credits

released October 6, 2016

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gillian schnurr Toronto, Ontario

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