he looks out the window at the light broken by the poorly placed frames of this damned house.
he tells himself that this mess isn't worth it anymore. he picks up his rifle and goes out. there are two vehicles parked on the street. a gray one and a black one. he starts to shoot at the people driving the passing cars making sure that they can't see him it would be too bad not to be able to finish the work begun he reloads his rifle and walks in the public square. nobody notices him until he liquidates an eighty-year-old in a wheelchair who was moving too slowly. people start to scream
chaos
music
his ears can barely tolerate that racket. he harmonizes it with two cartridges. one smashes into the skull of a little six-year-old girl and the other in the belly of her pregnant mother. he laughs enthusiastically. no policeman stops him. they look. he begins to understand what he is doing and he wonders where this desire to destroy comes from. he tells himself that it could not be otherwise and that it has been far too long that he has been waiting his whole life he has been waiting to see this moment. he hides his face behind the sight of his rifle and he fires again and again blinded by adrenaline and the euphoria of ending all those lives and of being the one who who who who who.
Jack wakes up in his shabby basement filled with broken light that comes through the frames of his poorly place windows in this damned house and he tells himself that he has had enough of this damn mess so he takes a knife and goes outside it is two thirty-three and it is very cold several pedestrians could be targets for him he chooses one at random and cuts him to pieces in an alley. the other man doesn't even have the strength to scream because he is also fed up with the damned mess of reality. Jack Jack Jack wakes up in his dusty attic and begins to eat the rats he hunted that night before the pieces cut from his dolls provide him with salt for his filth and he refuses to believe that this girl is not of ivory but in fact of flesh. Jack wakes up and wakes up again and goes back to sleep while waking up and he takes his time with the body of his beloved. Jack sits down on his couch turns on the TV and begins to watch
he feels better.
his house is on fire.
he doesn't feel the heat licking his skin and making his eyes boil. everything he feels is a stretched smile on his lips that are no longer his, but in fact those of an ordinary demon. Jack wakes up and sees jackals shredding his carcass. pigs eat him all around.
Jacques wakes up and suddenly he observes that he is in class and he has to write his psychology exam. the teacher laughs but Jack doesn't laugh.
he shoots himself two days later
and that's the end of our story
pain of living
sounds of dry breaths / cuts abrupt and fluid
discovering the fragile tactile volume of my tight throat that frees my words
I would have to have a tongue to speak / an absence to have a reason to have an idea to know
where to go with this thread of forced shivers.
the odour of copper muddles the living room with asphyxia
the nerve tightens the hands stretch out on the lascivious faces of cyborg brides
waiting in line to jump into the volcano
they stretch their wings. they try their refuge, their fantasies incoherent in the inn of our flesh. we implore a sky blackened by atomic faults. blind and howling for pity pity pity to combat the objectivity of nuclear precision. our families united in one last instant of life
unbearable sufferings shared at random like those shootings in the media like those parades of macabre mirrors on TV its claws rapacious hollow its voracious nest in the cavities of my skull
I have. / I have a / I have an ache / I have a tooth / I have a toothache / that will only be healed
by pulling them out / I have a heartache that will only be healed / by pulling it out
again and again and again and again and again and again and again
for centuries and centuries
blessed be he
amen.
credits
from HellHeart,
released July 15, 2015
Voix et textes - Daniel Groleau Landry
Violon - John Jagodics
Guitare - Daniel Groleau Landry
Basse - Xavier Bélanger
Percussions - Brad Lapensée
Didgeridoo - Julien Dupont
This album by Kenyan electronic producer rPH and poet Kins of Spade reflects on the impact of religion in their lives and society. Bandcamp New & Notable May 12, 2023
Poet Douglas Kearney and composer/producer/drummer Val Jeanty link up for a a compelling LP that feels like the written word come to life. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 30, 2021
On her new EP, Japanese producer Mikado Koko deconstructs the traditional, mixing avant-garde vocals and glitch breaks with koto. Bandcamp New & Notable Dec 15, 2020
In a lane all his own, aint about me lays moody spoken word over rippling soundscapes on songs that feel cinematic in scope. Bandcamp New & Notable Nov 23, 2020