Tame Impala from Manor Buds by Noether

glances through the mist
a ruptured spleen in a plaid t-shirt

the buttons in a spiral to a carhartt beanie
and he asks me if i listen to tame impala

and without a flinch, i say im more elvis costello
as i walk backwards down the street and directly into traffic

a 2002 toyota tacoma screeches to a halt and honks its horn
and i say, don’t worry, it’s on the house
and he drives and backs over my now lifeless body
and then blackness

*shrieks*

a blanket wind pushes me towards the mesosphere
in a moment, frosty ice on a windshield in december becomes my bed
i’m pleading with and questioning the generals’ motives
and they don’t seem to think the same

“superfluous nonsense” they say, and they shove me
back towards my body without a second thought
i wake up on the street wearing a plaid shirt
and a carhartt beanie with currents playing from my iPhone 7
and then light

moments
times
inquiries
they’re shaping up
moan

• Experimental
• indie rock
• lo-fi
• noise rock
• singer-songwriter
• Pennsylvania