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The Shiniest Blue

by Dog Voice

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1.
what adventures might this midday bring? leftovers with soup is just the thing raining rather hard out there today not that we could go out anyway onions, sauce, and pasta with some beans set it and forget it ‘til it steams then forget for longer so it’s paste cold and wet, like bad weather would taste let’s cook some clouds and add the sunlight later some eggs so underdone I wouldn’t serve without a waiver we’ll try a tuna bake potatoes a la steak your lentil surprise, and surprise! it’s surprisingly good, well, fine, well— casserole is sounding pretty nice time to get ambitious with the spice what goes well with yellow turmeric? several tablespoons should do the trick gather round the cans and have a think for some inspiration have a drink maybe pour the drink into the can now you seem like someone with a plan! let’s cook some clouds and add the sunlight later the sourdough’s too sour but I think that’s just the flavor my only prides and joys my infinite yeastie bois my several billion lactobacilli and me are happy— let’s cook some clouds and add the sunlight later I’ll eat it all myself and I’ll be doing you a favor I’m struggling to chew but at least I’m eating with you and you’re the only dinner guest I need!
2.
good morning sweetheart! here’s the traffic on the twos somewhat congested here on Webster Avenue a pothole on the carpet where the cat’s asleep a laundry basket accident has slowed all progress to a creep— socks tangled up in underwear and sheets good morning sweetheart, grab your coffee and a brush we better hurry so we beat the morning rush up in the trafficopter, looking at the spread a lot of folks are pulling off on the last exit back to bed— or detouring to couch cushions instead some real time road news for your long commute from cabinet to kitchenette to clogged up laundry chute a pile-up of dishes that it’s your turn to reroute from Skycam, that’s the latest, back to you it’s bumper–bumper on the highway at midday the lanes converge around the fridge; expect delays! on every roundabout the counter drink some tea and every stoplight is a chance to share the latest joke with me or talk about the people on tv and after lunch, it’s hardly better, look around there’s planned repairs on every rug that heads eastbound the city planner’s started tearing out his hair everyone’s inching towards their desks but no one’s ever getting there there’s some kind of construction everywhere some real time road news for your long commute commuters might have tried less traveled roads if they're astute although it makes no difference which worn path you substitute from Skycam, that’s the latest, back to you an unexpected visit in the early afternoon it’s hard to find good parking with the books and cups and spoons the best part every hour is this mini-honeymoon see you soon! some real time road news for your long commute there's rubbernecking at the dogs outside, they're super cute we should have started earlier, but that point might be moot from Skycam, that’s the latest, from Skycam, that’s the latest, from Skycam, that’s the latest, back to you
3.
the dogs bark low the frisbees throw the joggers laugh together like they didn't know on Donnelly Field the daffodils the ring of bells we're crouched on Megacouch to watch the imbeciles on Donnelly Field a window view will do quite well for me and you, my love if anyone were boo, it would be you, my love we'll watch the children play and we'll wish them all away and we'll hold onto each other one more day a baseball bat a red sox hat a cotton mask has been discarded, trampled flat on Donnelly field a blue jay sings on playground swings we crack the window to hear some vicarious spring from Donnelly Field but inside here it's winter still for me and you, my love is that a fever, chill—could it be flu, my love? we're probably ok but we'll worry anyway as we try to disinfect the takeaway we throw our salt we knock on wood it's not our fault that the damn weather's gotten good but you will keep me entertained 'til this is through, my love if anybody could, it would be you, my love for dinner we'll have stew and for breakfast probably too and we won't pretend we know what we should do except avoid Donnelly Field
4.
Trash Fire 03:18
piles everywhere, testament to sixty days of waiting clothes on every chair, shove ‘em to the floor or let them slide the cobwebs have grown cobwebs and the succulents have died— but we’re doing fine— but we’re doing fine! papers up the wall, like we’re all in CSI-Miami boxes six-feet tall, almost twice as wide and twice as long the urge to set it all ablaze is growing pretty strong but we’re doing fine— but we’re doing fine! would that we were better but we are surely not if only it were wetter the apartment floor would rot and we would sing our songs together and laugh and drink a lot lucky as we are— lucky as we are! play me Ira Glass and tell me how the world is surely ending if we do the math, not exactly something we’ll avoid but you and I are here, and we have not yet been destroyed— lucky as we are— lucky as we are! tear the baggage up, throw around the cardboard confetti, pyramid the cups like we’re going bowling at first light for you and I are here, and we have figured out tonight— lucky as we are— lucky as we are! would that we were better but we are surely not things fall apart, and every center it cannot hold its spot but we can sing our songs together and laugh and drink a lot— lucky as we are— lucky as we are!
5.
it’s 5pm Tuesday/Sunday and morningtime rises the moon I’ve slept several hours and wept my accustomed six times and it isn’t yet noon my calendar says that it’s April but maybe it’s already June it hailed, then got sunny and people in sports bras went running— it seems like too soon. the concept of time used to be fun; hard not to miss the fact now that it’s done clocks seem to glitch or maybe switch seconds for minutes, it’s hard to say which arise, skeletal guardians! the Age of Man ended outside of your tomb we’ve set all manner of timers to organize parts of the room half-hours for working twelve minutes for pasta alarms to remind us to Zoom the light that trickles through windows cuts down on the feelings of gloom and shines on the flowers that dried out last Friday but now have reversed into bloom now the first of Mayvember was covered with snow! the concept of time used to be fun; hard not to miss the fact now that it’s done clocks seem to glitch or maybe switch not quite sure which second hands twitch steps seem to hitch as though a witch held a dark ritual over Greenwich arise, skeletal guardians! come dust off your scabbards come blink towards the sun! your old bones rattle with secrets and maybe your era’s begun
6.
on our left is a fragile display it dates back to distinctly pre-May it was found in a pipe; it’s a clear archetype they called it a Clorox wipe. just ahead in the frame on the wall— it’s the last toilet paper roll please don’t take pics with flash it’ll crumble to ash and we’ve got a finite stash "Seventeen Jars of Ragu" [glass, with metal lid] "Masks Made of Old College Band T-shirts" [cotton, thread] for the room up ahead, please prepare— it’s the last non-polluted air do your weeping outside; the humidity guide suggests that your eyes be dried "Home Renovation Mistakes" [drywall, paint with zinc] "Books Overdue by a Dozen Weeks" [paper, ink] and our pride, in this gold envelope— we’ve acquired the last bit of hope you can look but don’t touch and it’s desperate to clutch your heart like you’ve seen too much "Sketch of a Three-Color Bird" [charcoal, paperboard] "Dance Performed Badly with Two-year-old" [.mp4]
7.
we’ve done our best and lord knows that was not enough we’ve lied politely that we’re doing fine half the time we thought the senselessness would cause someone to care about everything that’s happening out there thoughts & prayers it’s no surprise we are so callous— nothing will change, so we try to forget evil banal isn’t evil with malice (though it kills as quickly or quicker) and yet, we’ve lost something that we won’t get back for years we’ve tried nothing and we’re all out of ideas we’ve stayed inside and watched the empty avenues as spring crept over Cambridge with a howl on the prowl we’ve said we’re sorry and we’ve bargained with our ghosts the better angels Lincoln said we had it’s too bad but now we know we are too callous and maybe too dumb to deserve to survive evil banal isn’t evil with malice but that doesn’t really keep people alive we’ve lost something that we won’t get back for years we’ve tried nothing and we’re all out of ideas thoughts & prayers
8.
Dear Friend 02:45
Dear Friend, I hope this email finds you well in these bad times it’s hard to tell and let’s be honest this is hell, so probably not Dear Friend, it’s been a while, we should chat how is your mom/ dog/ husband/cat? it must be evening where you’re at, so let’s have gin Dear Friend, I’m only checking in in these unprecedented times to see if you’d like to renew that subscription Dear Friend, I know I’m late on editing I know I’m late on everything I’m hoping you’ll find it endearing, oh, you don’t it’s a difficult time in a difficult age (we’re so grateful for your continued support) but we need to know which team you’re on (which team you’re on, which team you’re on) I know it’s an intense time right now when so many people are struggling so I hate to bother you, but I must ask can you give us $10 by midnight? Dear Friend, I’ve only just received your note it’s so damn lovely that you wrote I loved the cartoon of the goat that stayed in bed Dear Friend, the death cult GOP is shredding our democracy and if you care then you must give us more money Dear Friend, I’m sorry that I didn’t call, I’m having trouble with it all it’s somehow very tiring staring at the wall but still there is much to be grateful for (wishing all my best to you and yours) I hope at least this reassures (wishing light and love from mine to yours) all best, and thanks, and cheers, I miss you, friend.
9.
buttons and bottle caps, feathers, and spoons drinking straws laid in a carpet of blue plastic and tape ribbon and crepe gathered like bowerbirds do twigs all arranged like a crown in the earth stretching and spreading for all that they’re worth pointed and neat circles complete bowers for bowerbird feet if I could make a nest of words then we could be like bowerbirds it’s late, my love come close the door we’re safe enough like bowerbirds if I could fly, I would know what to do: pick out the thing that’s the shiniest blue knowing the glean of ultramarine would make this a good home for you now I’m not sure about so many things that I’d be sure of if I had the wings how to be fine how to freeze time how to find hope with a string but I can make a nest of words and we can be like bowerbirds it’s late, my love we've locked the door we’re safe enough like bowerbirds

credits

released August 2, 2020

Melissa Kagen: lyrics, melody, lead vocals, piano [6 & 8], & kitchen percussion [1]
Kurt James Werner: guitars, fretless bass, ukulele [1], lap steel guitar [2 & 9], keyboard & drum programming, production, backing vocals, &c.

Emma Azelborn: flute & low whistle [1 & 2]
Sam: trumpet [1]
Jenny: backing vocals [1]
Liz: backing vocals [1], lead vocals [6]
Jack Tarricone: tenor sax [2]
Mayank: electric guitar [3, 4, 5, 6, & 9]
Alessandra: violas [3]
Gautam Srikishan: drums & backing vocals [4]
Pablo Yang: lap steel guitar [5]
Giulia Cacciavillani: flute [9]
Sashko Temelkoski: clarinet & bass clarinet [9]

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Dog Voice Cambridge, Massachusetts

music by Melissa Kagen, Kurt James Werner, & friends

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