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letra de blueberry frost - slow moving pedestrians

(too physically and mentally taxing)

ille mi par esse deo videtur
ille, si fas est, superare divos
qui sedens adversus identidem te
spectat et audit
dulce ridentem, misero quod omnis
eripit sensus mihi: nam simul te
lesbia, aspexi, nihil est super mi
lingua sed torpet, tenuis sub artus
flamma demanat

she’s a danger mortal
all unsuspicious–full of charms unconscious
like a sweet perfumed rose–a snare of nature
within whose petals cupid lurks in ambush!
hе who has seen her smile has known perfеction
–instilling into trifles grace’s essence
divinity in every careless gesture;
not venus’ self can mount her conch blown sea-ward
as she can step into her chaise a porteurs
nor dian fleet across the woods spring-flowered
light as my lady o’er the stones of paris!

you are all the forgotten new years resolutions
you’re the patches of snow on the ground that will be gone by noon the day after it snows
you are the feeling of falling asleep on a picnic blanket on a warm day, while someone sits next to you reading
you are the feeling of wet grass, so wet that it squeaks underfoot
you are the first warm weekend of the year
you are a shopping trip exclusively to buy the brightest, reddest strawberries anyone has ever seen
you are every word for productivity
you are music made for airports
you are dozing off in uncommon places, like in front of doors or on staircases or upside down
you are playing catch in the park until the sun sets at 9pm, and then a bit later even though you can hardly see
you are knowing the names of several constellations and stars and the pride of teaching them to somebody
you are the satisfaction of a shower when you can feel the hot dried-sweat salt coating your skin
you are the second sip of a glass of whisky
you are putting completed tasks on a todo list just to immediately check them off
you are the difference between a firefly and a lightning bug
you are the words ‘sweater weather.’
you are decade old memories of the subtle emotions and internal images from reading a novel
you are the sea of umbrellas traveling down a sidewalk

the apartment below mine had the only balcony of the house. i saw a girl standing on it, completely submerged in the pool of autumn twilight. she wasn’t doing a thing that i could see, except standing there leaning on the balcony railing, holding the universe together. the way the profile of her face and body refracted in the soupy twilight made me feel a little drunk. when a few seconds had throbbed by, i said h-llo to her. she then looked up at me, and though she seemed decorously startled, something told me she wasn’t too surprised that i had heard her doing the boswell number. this didn’t matter, of course. i asked her, in murderous german, if i might join her on the balcony. the request obviously rattled her. she replied, in english, that she didn’t think her ‘fahzzer’ would like me to come down to see her. at this point, my opinion of girls’ fathers, which had been low for years, struck bottom. but nevertheless i managed a drab little nod of understanding

and so, i get this message from ambrose, and he’s like, ‘come see me young wizard!’ and so i go to his office, and he’s like ‘there’s something i never told you. malistaire is your father!’

- slow moving pedestrians

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