Keep Jetty Diving

by edgar clinks

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1.
02:51
2.
03:18
3.
4.

credits

released September 10, 2015

joegaudiana - vocals&guitars&samples&keys&glockenspiel
eli sprague - drums
chris watkins - guitar & bass
joey goldsmith - bass & banjo
jon markson - lead guitar on track 1 / additional guitar on 3

produced & engineered & mixed by Jon Markson
at The Gallery in Brooklyn
mastered by Mark Alan Miller at Sonelab in Easthampton, MA

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edgar clinks Providence, Rhode Island

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Track Name: tree culture
flat nose
on a face
on a plank
walking down the aisle
to a cookie-cutter shark tank
clear water in a bowl
a brilliant bowl
touch green, scold me
associated image from the
volvo’s backseat
i didn’t dream but at least
i was able to fall asleep

flat nose
black hairs on a comb
initially transition
to a certain solar spot
where we can climb
& rest eyes
on a giant perforation
that has definitely
developed in the sky
maybe twice
maybe took half the time
to turn my innards to ice
(yet i was able to fall asleep)


& oh is that the afterlife
in a rainy inkling?
& oh is that your giddy wheezing
laughter shrinking ?
i’d expect you to gallantly
say something insipid
like when it rains
it’s often liquid

[[[ wait-up by the split screen ocean glow ]]]
sand dunes on a saturday,
neon june just explodes
always during hot days
by the water, when yr
jetty diviing
high-tide & a side a fries
[[[[ we just don't talk anymore ]]]
Track Name: sub pastoral
if i laugh enough to sway
the rosy lull of saturday
jetty thoughts are a matinee
they waft across narragansett bay
& then the present intervenes
& floats across the dream ravine
but ya look good in green &
i’ve got on these long pants

& you’ll go outside to breath
in amethyst & tweed
the days move so swiftly
& nights seem endless to me

beetlejuice & a glass of absinthe
our fingers murmur & touch in passing
living room johann strauss
a sluggish waltz while we’re still unpacking
a box of paperback wallace stevens
shades of periwinkle look misleading
& familiar shoulders
move over & smolder

then go outside to breath
eating pumpkin seeds
the days move so swiftly
& the nights seem endless to me

orange tulips in the window
a lazy smile like a silkworm
a conversational crescendo
but i can smell ya from across the room
we like rain but we love thunder
couple of poets in a neck-brace
it bothers me when we’re asunder
so its nice to have our own place
///
now we’re sleeping on the roof slant
dropped the keys down a sewer grate
but at least we’ll get a sun tan
let’s just not forget to rotate
"swoon against me fr a lifetime"
suburban pastoral accident
we’re just hoping fr the good kind of
stuff that's growing on the ceiling
Track Name: fr grace, after a party
[after frank o'hara]

I’ve got the summer
//////////////////////weekend
I’m not gonna sleep
fr either of them
drinking coffee
velveteen sunrise
i don’t have morning aches
& i don’t have sandy eyes

it’s after a party
& isn’t it odd?
i’ve still gotta thoughtah u
despite my cool facade

warm weather is holding
& some silken fingers
reach down to plug my nose
& my pining eyes get bigger

i’m allergic to nostalgia
i want an infinite now
but i don’t know how to act
& i don’t like how that sounds

i’ve got the summer
to be drunk & sunlit
& i’m not gonna close my eye
fr a single second of it
Track Name: weave roll'd into anothr dream
"And whether it is Thursday, or the day is stormy,
With thunder and rain, or the birds attack each other,
We have rolled into another dream.
No use charging the barriers of that other:
It no longer exists. But you,
Gracious and growing thing, with those leaves like stars,
We shall soon give all our attention to you." john ashbery





I’m a stranger,
I’m a fucking...transient, or something, baby.
When I click my heels together,
my atoms start diverging.
I’ve gone thwarting,
in the all encompassing forest all morning.
I’m with a stranger who is
wearing a careful bedazzled blazer &
eating street-meat with an Emersonian aerobic instructor
hanging with her & an MTA conductor (later).
Sharing ideas as if they were earth worms,
all of a sudden,
yours give me heartburn.
In the cold, tawny afternoon,
(yellow hot air balloon)
inside that wicker basket,
when the propane burner is lit...

She asks, “Who’s trans-am did we steal last night?"
To which I respond, "Which movie should we watch on the flight?
Fast & The Furious? 1, 6, or 3? Or should it be
something else entirely?”