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memorial lite

by The History of a Family

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1.
bedrest 02:59
2.
sidney 03:36
when you were younger you burnt down the trees "to fight a new war with the smoke" mouth near the ground to find something to breathe and remembering old knives you had sold to the boy who once was a sailor to acquire a novel vocation because the vagrant's boss is the jailer and his "paycheck is only his clothes." so which way did that young hawker mark them, for a profit or to keep them moving? with the "swiss men in the hop fields" you'll find him. he's checking out on a decent day's work. the henhouse now dances with flames and our hero has called the policemen "solemn family's praying for rain..." but his memory's begun to defeat him. because the lunchbox kid has grown tired, busy storing these stories inside him. and he's given away all his possessions just to prove that there's nothing that owns him: just to prove what we've always denied. his last few years were a train wreck, yeah maybe a decade or two. you hurt more people that you had helped, but sidney i will not forget you.
3.
i know that i won't rise in the early morning instead these days begin to fade away all i know echoes into the evening all i know points toward your leaving the next page of my nightmare is standing in the doorway, knocks me to the floor where i've made my bed and now must lay the blood is pouring and the fog is freezing each cup of coffee holds a darker meaning i know that i won't find an easy way to look past this looking into your eyes one part stoned and one part jaundiced
4.
sometimes my life feels just like a needle pushed completely through a pin cushion every action and every thought is just the substance of a larger thing that i only intersect if everything is happening at the same time, then there is no time maybe that's just an easy way to sidestep my own shortcomings i cannot answer for or absolve my need for a will yes i will
5.
fiberglass 02:45
not realizing your buoyant until you drain the water from the bath the pressure of fiberglass on your back this weight it feels like someone else's but it won't go away during your lifetime and you wake from a dream you've had before (with the taste of wine in your throat). the vision in your mind's eye is still clear: a figure with your face steps out from the shadows this dream feels different than the others as though it stands apart: a landmark of your lifetime
6.
you said to me, "can I see your id? hey thanks for having it ready" "halloween? that's my birthday too!" and like a curse, i'd always forget to say 'happy birthday' to you on the 31st i'd found out a month after you left so i guess i won't see you on my 30th. but i swear i won't forget you this year when i'm buying my birthday beer.
7.
the rain outside the window collects in a puddle reflecting the motion-sensing light that hangs from the neighbor's garage nothing is happening but I can pretend nothing is happening here but i can't help but pretend i try to draw my face without lifting up my pen a tangle of lines is all i find instead but still it looks a little like how i feel nothing is happening but i can pretend something is happening here but i can't help but pretend.
8.
damp paper 03:23
state-office building parking lot lottery tickets dumped out in an empty spot. i could pick one up--no one's around i'd probably be the winner: of another damp piece of paper. my breath hands in the air in the dark in the morning and in the evening condensation on my upper lip is what i get for sighing all the time (sigh)
9.
you're the last one on the lease in the whole apartment building. it's easier for the landlord to keep the water running than to break the terms you'd signed. and so you sit alone in an oversized house of empty rooms with a new room and a crumbling front foundation. damaged from the time a car had hit it before you moved in before you came here and before they moved out before the summer heatwave had started just turn the fan on to drown the roadhouse out you've only got a few more weeks until you're kicked out.
10.
the paint on the ground marking the site of a pedestrian fatality has faded considerably. the solar powered memorial light, was well intentioned but it never comes on because it's bathed in streetlight i'm so tired. like the red oldsmobile with a 'for sale' sign in the window sitting in the retirement center parking lot. ignore the sale price--make your best offer.
11.
church fire 02:16
i had a dream where a monolithic charge pageant caught fire giant wooden angels with their arms out lighting up the dark auditorium and i couldn't help but laugh at the sheer magnificence of it all

about

sometimes you experience a feeling of loss which seems undeserved: a relative you hardly knew, a co-worker you'd never actually seen, a cashier at the grocery store. in these cases it can happen that you're left to grieve imperfectly. you know that your distance would make full blown mourning inappropriate and grossly performative. and yet you feel a human obligation to reflect.

enter "memorial lite."

unlike true grief, "memorial lite" is a mechanism you can use to explore tender emotions of loss while respecting the individuality of those who you have not-truly-known. it is a ritual of cherishing your own mundane experiences and showing the restraint to avoid fictionalizing others.

credits

released May 2, 2020

kirstin demezas - violin, guitar
brandon loveall - drums
christopher mcfetridge - guitar, vocals, bass, drums, synthesizer

cara mcfetridge - artwork

thanks:
ryan garaventa
jon garcia

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