Get all 11 Total Wife releases available on Bandcamp and save 20%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of heatwave iv, in/out, rest, UHFow/io, heatwave, A Blip, Mid-fi / Pink and Blue, Debbie - Single, and 3 more.
1. |
Hypoxia
05:44
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Creature comforts help us adapt to brackish waters,
accumulated humus on the edges of the mires -
we have grown hollow -
we have grown hollow stems, just to get some air
fetid in our stagnation, roots caught in a snare.
Elite incumbent parasites wiggle mirror mucked,
screen-sucking leaches mired in the weeds.
We have grown hollow stems, just to get some air
fetid in our stagnation, roots caught in a snare.
Creature comforts help us adapt to
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2. |
Room Noise
02:03
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3. |
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I tried to go inside, but the walls were too high.
Realize there's nothing there, it disappears,
reveals everything has been technicolored.
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4. |
Future Salt pt. III
08:19
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Ode to ocean-battered flesh,
the holes in your chest,
they fertilize the land,
erode from the banks
and beds of river..
o ocean-battered soul,
sing yourself to sleep -
why sacrifice your self
to combat erosion;
you are sea stacks standing
up against hurricanes,
who bore holes in your chest -
need not cover the cracks.
You may fragment
when your heart slows
down, you will fertilize the land;
erode.
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5. |
Peepers
03:56
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Pine ladder cracks through screen doors,
weakened by the storm the night before.
L in a lover's basement, I cracked my head to
the cheap turntable playing pavement, and
the needle pretends it's a diamond, and
the room pretends it's silent.
Teeming with life, the snapped tree's moss creeps
chaotic, over bark; spring peepers, distraught &
metamorphosed, belch from the break.
Moisture hangs in the empty space where
the mid- sun pretends it fits;
flying frogs pretend too, fingers on my nose
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6. |
First Flashback
06:31
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Still-life vibrates within its frame,
pineapple, plum and mandarin,
and the potential for life in their pits
ferments from within the wicker basket.
Fruit tastes sweet when closer to death,
juice dribbles, lips kiss plum's last breath
until spoiled, putrid layers peel back
the image, the panel reveals;
once-bloomed, rotting roses
on the wallpaper's floral;
everything dies, but decay cycles.
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7. |
Deeps Emuser
03:48
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8. |
Head Architecture
04:12
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I am crackling, dry draft; puerile.
Thoughts too hollow in my mouth to make sound -
I am open throat, and bruised fists of embrace,
a spigot of deep bloodroot sap, sputtering -
I am stinging palms tined collecting shards
of myself, a buck's antlers growing in.
Sometimes, when the sun's so close,
I can see her fragmented in spectral color,
and for once, I don't think ordered tiles
could conceive the most sublime mosaic.
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9. |
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10. |
Empire St.
03:33
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Scattered sunbeams, sand above me,
shoulders melt into the hardwood floor.
Visible air hangs near your head,
neck to ears, bake to bread -
bodiless toaster from the next room over.
I feel heavy enough to float in the breezeless space,
so gravity can take a break.
Light intake,
become sand-face,
Mind the sunshine,
try not to be late.
I'll be late.
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11. |
JAHGI'S WORLD
04:07
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12. |
Chrysalides
05:55
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Caterpillars concoct chrysalides,
among the ivies nature provides;
from which, we burst and molt
our antiquated skins.
Oversaturated visions of hues,
peeled orange flowers begin to bloom
their succus drips slow
over stem and thorn.
I'd wade in and steal each grain of salt until
a sea of fresh water remained, just so that you
would never thirst.
Floral fantasy, fill my nose to its brim
synesthetic saffron and fresh linen.
When petals pulls off, you love me not.
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13. |
Katabasis
06:13
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Skeletal like the frozen trees,
the caretaker's antlers guide me home.
The wounded buck on Misen's peak
gently saunters the path, curved like a spine.
Spirit of the woods, a nymph glides through
my body, fleeing falling night.
We are fused like ice around Benzaiten temples,
I carry them both.
Bundled in weakness
I want simply to be nude,
trembling soul to sand
to meet the low tide.
As the sun sets slow, mountain snow froze,
burdened feet struggle to grip the man-laid stone staircase,
snug in sockets, carved by hands that are now just dust.
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14. |
Florian
01:52
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