In the Breeding Pit of Silence

by Spencer Hanvik

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about

when he woke up he wrote down several lines from his dreaming and offered them

credits

released June 18, 2013

songs by Spencer Hanvik and Norman Dubie


thanks Jon Weil and Mike Fearless

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Spencer Hanvik Brooklyn, New York

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Track Name: Plain of Jars
Plain of Jars

Into the dark trees to the left,
fly paper emerges from enormous termite nests
but with eyes of honey and the list
and that green pack of cigarettes…

Please just forget us.
Please just forget us.

Fly papers from red and yellow stick
emerge from enormous termite nests,
emerging from the early morning stench.

Please just forget us.
Please just forget us.

Into the dark trees to the left,
fly paper emerges from enormous termite nests
but with eyes of honey and the list
and that green pack of cigarettes,
emerging from the early morning stench…

Please just forget us.
Please just forget us.
Track Name: Beulah Land
Beulah Land

You on the red cotton,
stash of mourning
the dead dog in the ditch,
birds reading psalms
over the rivers and the hills…

Somalia on the red cotton,
stamp of mourning,
oh, Beulah, goddamn.
Beulah, Beulah,
you got a match?

Somalia on the red cotton,
stash of mourning the dead dog in the ditch,
birds reading psalms over the rivers and the hills, and
oh, Beulah, goddamn,
oh, Beulah, goddamn,
Beulah, Beulah,
you got a match?
Track Name: In the Breeding Pit of Silence
In the Breeding Pit of Silence

Climbing out from the tomb’s bathhouse
to the house of blindness and a dimpled moon,
the eastern gate moves clockwise with us
Entering the stark sunlight.
The eastern gate moves clockwise with us
entering the stark sunlight,
climbing out from the tomb’s bathhouse
to the house of blindness and a dimpled moon.

The specter of Los… Los… Los…
Spirit tablets like sewer plates
In Los Angeles,
oh, baby, oh, baby,
In our brightening sun?
Oh, baby, oh, baby,
In our brightening sun?

In the starveling winter
they should take your book and burn it,
put the ashes on their children’s faces.

The specter of Los… Los… Los…
A water monster with his bowl of lightning
shouts, shouts, for the cousins of Lo,
oh, baby, oh, baby,
in the breeding pit of silence.

Simple floursack mask of Talking God,
tell us not to fear the sickness in the chest.
It is this sickness that will heal us.

The specter of Los… Los… Los…
A water monster with his bowl of lightning
Shouts, shouts, for the cousins of Lo,
oh, baby, oh, baby,

the specter of Los… Los… Los…
Spirit tablets like sewer plates
in Los Angeles,
oh, baby, oh, baby,
in the breeding pit of silence,
oh, baby, oh, baby,
in the breeding pit of silence,
oh, baby, oh, baby,
in our brightening sun?
Track Name: Song for Dadu
Song for Dadu

An artesian water-gig volunteering in the evening’s mustard:
the dustfall of cowflies, stooped
and complicated by light—

where hungry birds in their least bright aspect
reply
in generous laughter-like repetitions of flight…
it is again
the mother night.

Small girls in yellow rags are
leaving the thousand years of a dry hillside;
the earth moves

lifting the children into sky,
to the poor kitchens of the darkening mountainside
where hungry birds in their least bright aspect
reply
in generous laughter-like repetitions of flight…
it is again
the mother night.

The earth moves

lifting the children into sky,
to the poor kitchens of the darkening mountain
where hungry birds in their least bright aspect
reply
in generous laughter-like repetitions of flight…
it is again
the mother night.