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Trout

from Moths by Dylan Marx

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lyrics

I lay on my bed, shaken by the tortures I had invited in, the dreams forgotten upon waking, the lingering feeling that haunts all day, the moths, in the head and eating their way out, welcomed like the whip, to forget the empty sea, the corrosion of time, an ever dimming circle, like the night after a full moon, like the sun shining behind the smoke of burning trees
the moon, each night, loses a sliver, till she is nothing but an empty starless black, the dustless spot where a book or pot once lay, blanketing all who sleep in her thick warm darkness.

credits

from Moths, released August 30, 2016

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Dylan Marx California

Moths, Clownfisher, Dylan Marx, The Sandman, Oracle of Light, Purveyor of Goods, Great Overtaker, Stopping by for Soup, Standing on the Corner with a Glass of Water, Dumping it out on the Sidewalk, missed the plants, missed the plant, went back, wrote a postcard, postmarked it, forgot to address it, sitting in a big mail room waiting to be sorted, sort of open to that ... more

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