Dubulihasa and Other Tales of Eating and Being Eaten

by Gem State

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1.
There's no meat, no greens, no milk, no bread, I'm singing you the song of the dead No butter, no oil, no fat, no grease, the pans are dry, the pans are dry There's no corn, no wheat, no barley, no rice, the larders are empty even of mice There's no herbs, no yeast, no dry beans and no spice, this is a song, a song for the dead. Ooooooooo Ooooooooooo No cornflake casserole, no hot cross buns, no root beer floats no buttered rum, no hollandaise, no bougelaise, no creme fraiche, no mayonnaise- No chicken of the woods, no sarsaparilla, no verde sauce, no carnitas- No lovage on toast, elephants ears, no turkey pot pie, no fennel bulbs, no rosemary, no beef jerky, no watermelon rinds, no sassafras tea- No okra, cauliflower, rhubarb pie, no snow no shelling, no sugar snap peas, no peas- No quinoa, no aubergine, no radicchio, no arugula, no lemon chiffon, no hot peach pie, no baked beans, bacon and collard greens- No stuffed tiger lilies, no steamed bok choy, no roasted baby turnips no tatsoi- No kelp, no nori, no sashimi, no stewed prune shakes, no Purple Cherokee, No risotto asparagus brie or blue cheese, no sweet potato fries, no sour cream, no duck confit, no tater gems, no cardamom pudding, not even ground cherries, no cherries- I'm singing to you, you hungry ghost and now that you know there's nothing to eat You can quit your hanging and banging around you can quit your clanking those heavy links And don't be afraid to wade deep 'til you're inside the moon 'til your inside the moon. And you're dreaming and you're dreaming and you're dreaming the tides and you're dreaming the tides.
2.
Walking Raga 07:27
I am walking a dark forest down from the shoulder of a mountain and the edges of my lamplight are catching motion and the fire of my imagining is picking up the dark edge and seeing horses prostrate people hats on branches familiar faces. Mmm-mm hmm-hm While in the light I see there are traces: broken plastic, a knarled hair brush, empty shotgun shells, head of a razor – this place, just touched by junk in the light and in the dark. And under damp leaves the projections of armies through ripening passages are now stirring. And whose names will follow? Whose hearts will soften to the charge of what they don’t know? mm- mmm hmm –hmm mm-mm hmm-hmm Back in town I saw a girl too young for me sitting with short shorts on hugging her long thigh. mm-mm hmm hmm mmm-mmm hmmm-hmmm And the rhythm of a pair of legs once set in motion towards a warm sensation could keep walking. And the rhythm of a pair of legs once set in motion towards a warm sensation could keep walking. Oh legs don’t you want to go? Oh legs don’t you want to go? Oh legs don’t you want to go? Oh legs don’t you want to go? I am walking a dark forest down from the shoulder of a mountain. And who’s names will follow In the eddies of my lamplight and catching the motion find their hearts softened? And see-sawing horses, prostrate bodies through ripening passages are now streaming. And the fire of my imagining is picking up the dark edge- under damp leaves the projections of armies- and familiar faces hanging from branches- and hugging a long thigh and not knowing. mmm-mm hmmh-hmm mmm-mmm hm-hmm And the rhythm of a pair of legs once set in motion towards a warm sensation could keep walking. And the rhythm of a pair of legs once set in motion towards a warm sensation could keep walking.
3.
all you wild and full of sap be wary not to nourish ghosts good hygiene in mountains means to land right where you fall the rushes bundled into thatch from on the moor where hangs a man and there the hanged man's semen dropped and there the mandrake grows August falls and bates the foal trembling leg by trembling leg towards a dream of opening against the brightening cold October's golden straw is bound in sheaves while 'long the edge of town a mandrake pulled a siren's call and there a dog lay stone it takes a witch with wax filled ears, a dog tied to the mandrake root he bates the dog to chase a stick that the shrieking root emerges come and have a drink with me, a curse, a spell, a minor thing and talk of lands once wet now dry and love's forsaken hold perhaps a cure will come to mind if sleep could crack a cruel heartache a root that's shaped just as a man could draw your feet to ground on a Monday drown three bats within a vat of cow milk poured on the grave where lay the devil's apple in a shroud but tell no one from where you found this talisman worth more than gold that through December hung as silent as a mandrake root the rushes bundled into thatch from on the moor where hangs a man and there the hanged man's semen dropped and there the mandrake grows pocket seeds of noxious weeds and they'll become your currency leave the dead to hang too long you'll see their shadows walk
4.
5.
6.
Goose Decoy 06:08
7.
Deer Song 04:52
8.
Dubulihasa 24:37
9.
Standing in the doorway I call all my family to feed attention instead of a habit, instead of a machine Who will come to the feast feet tied throat cut wide I know the banks arrive as soon unto the righteous as unto the blind It's dark times for the cannibal who's run himself out of distance got to eat his own, got to eat his own, got to eat his own While the war for the blood of this land, oh hold my hand we will maintain our flesh, though torn by doubts and demons in their teeth we will hold And though we die and descend, there's still no rest even in the end the march continues into the bend becoming the declension of mother into ground Aflood aflame we'll walk again becoming true in our limbs to restore the center and become the needed food and become the needed food

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released March 23, 2014

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Gem State Boise, Idaho

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