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Predicting Memories

by Eric Beeny

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1.
I take a pill for disaster relief, 8-ball for an eye, hurricane cyclops… Needle-point a thousand miles wide… This prescription is nothing more than words on paper, eyelashes floating in milk… My bicycle begins to grow Dali’s moustache for handlebars— flowers to pick at the finish line… Along sidewalks, pigeons without wings spread under ice, keeping wrong eggs warm… Under turtle-shell umbrellas we dance while our burning homes race pills to empty bottles…
2.
Galaxies 03:28
I’m in orbit around you, afraid of words that you might say. When reaching for a star, there’s a long way to fall… I feel you over me, beneath you I remain when our galaxies collide into darkness… Stars in our eyes are born with every dying word. The moon suspended over me as I reach for your hand…
3.
Blush 04:02
Every word I untie a crossword shoelace, replacement therapy, still my tongue in knots… Can’t think of anything to say, I don’t want to speak… I just want to feel the stars blush when the sky has burned away… These years will belong to the moon. Those nice-guy words whose busted pipe leaks in my ear… Burning bush that blinks when it lies, sit at the intersection, silent, legs crossed, eyes closed like a smoking monk… Away, these years will belong to the moon. Those night-sky words, whose busted pipe leaks in my ear… It’s fitting that fossil fuels deplete along with our atmosphere. Then, we’ll just have to think of a place to bury all the dead cars…
4.
Useless as a revolving doorknob, I turn to more fulfilling endeavors like balancing a measuring cup brimming with formaldehyde on my nose… Ice cube eyes are dissolving under my tongue… Even myself over an erection, limbs like helicopter blades spinning under a ceiling fan, or unrolling a rattlesnake along the length of a casino floor… Its ice-cube eyes dissolving under my tongue… But, seeing as it’s claustrophobic enough without slithering into the fireplace I pilot a cryogenic carpet, my arms and legs thawing out in all directions like da Vinci sketching a crucified scarecrow, voodoo doll pin-cushioned to the illusion of animation’s cross inverted…
5.
The night is calling me to lose myself in its fate… A wish, never made, to drown myself in the dark… I hear my name echoing within the trees the deeper I run into the darkness ahead… A pale full moon, all I have is memories of you. I’ve made that wish a thousand times, never came true… The stars above me lead me to this lake. I’ve tried to live your lie… I’ll drown but not in you any longer…
6.
As butterfly approached me, fearless words on full moon night… How long can they look into your eyes without crawling back to explanation? Cascade surrounds my body, casts my reflection… Rapture, circus of thoughts of hugs and kisses, last chance to be me… Still I find me talking to myself, isolated dreams of a falling sky… To her I offered thoughts of rapture— the tears of angels lull me sleep…
7.
I silently tip-toe away from the platform. You’ve invented the clouds, drawn up the sky’s blueprints… Tight-roping my own flat line I try not looking down at the nurse bending over to pull the plug— she cuts my second umbilical patch cord… What continents surround has a wet shadow… …the horizon whose smoke stacks are animated sculptures of ours lungs where we’d use lit cigarettes for snorkels…
8.
I gather up the hills and call to tell you about it hoping to hear the telephone in your voice tap against your teeth, smear the ashes of your lips on my mouth… Dusting each breath for someone else’s fingerprints while clouds lung the sky— a world healing in heaves, I hang up with just enough light for shadows, as if they need sun… Without it they’re just plants with skin for soil. Here, one flowers from mine across the room. Her drinking a glass of water helps me breathe… We’re all bridges under crossing kisses, our throats the crumbling supports when we finally remember the number and no one answers… Your darkest pulse runs the love from my skin with lips that unwind toward the motion of sleep… I can hear commas seeping between your teeth… Too far away to exist, we touch almost like knives— this helps to heal the ghosts of oceans we hear and want to believe in… This is just a simple mechanism—I leave the room without time to return while predicting memories…

about

"Predicting Memories" is an album by Siva, Eric Beeny's and Sterling Smalley's high school band that broke up around 1998/99 after recording one album. A few years later, the two decided to record material they had been working on for a sophomore album prior to breaking up.

Eric Beeny (vocals, guitars, bass, keyboards and some percussion) and Sterling Smalley (drums/percussion).

Music and lyrics by Eric Beeny; arrangements by Eric Beeny and Sterling Smalley. Songs written while Eric and Sterling were still in high school, c. 1998.

Produced and recorded by Sterling Smalley in 2003 in Sterling's apartment.

Cover image by Carrie LaMacchia:
instagram.com/__carrie__ann

credits

released January 30, 2003

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Eric Beeny Buffalo, New York

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