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Hand over hand
I’m pulling myself together
On this itchy couch again
I’d pull you in
But
I couldn’t help thinking
Or
My mouth was tarpaulin

Let me start again:
I didn’t mean to say so
Much about my plans
So you see my hand
(See?) It’s never either/or now
Stigmata ampersand

The morning is the self it’s self evident
A clattering of blinds
A mimetic wind
A sympathetic tremor I’m
A tessela of signs

O I close my eyes and
Fractal inner rings of varicose resign
Coiled dark inside
I’ll open my eyes and clear my
Throat when I know it’s time


Lyrics submitted by scratcher

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    General CommentIn a 2016 Pitchfork interview, Evan was asked about the best advice he’d ever received.

    "I took a James Joyce seminar and my professor said: “When reading Joyce, it’s never either/or. It’s always and.” And that advice extends to just interpreting experience. It’s an adventurous perspective, and it also does not try to collapse or reduce or one-dimensionalise experience—there are many layers to everything that’s going on, and they’re not competing, they co-exist. And you don’t have to choose. In fact, to choose is a little bit foolhardy. Never either/or, always and… [points to his “&” tattoo]."
    scratcheron July 06, 2017   Link

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