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Two Ton Sloth - Siphoning Dreams

by Two Ton Sloth (Brad Hamers & Big Pauper (PZ)

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1.
2.
no fun 04:19
no fun “even the baby with syphilis is the dreaming godhead” -Alan Watts this is for me and the cartoon in suite 503 for the camera that never caught the killing imagination trying to push a falling city through a hole a volcano’s creativity is our destruction and i receive a canvas and a room tab from somewhere around my liver a bottomless pistol the jammed song still robs stores takes your breath but can’t breath out never actually plays its first or anyone’s last chord i can’t letter my position wrap the words around this instant’s disposition only what it’s hanging off of -the love song dangling from a 4pms radio never playing your insides your stomach airing your lungs no requests for the warm room you can’t find in yourself more appropriate listening to static putting your ear or really your eye putting your eye right up to god and the chasm of overused metaphors 17 churches sorry superstores to one street choose your fig to represent your spirit your individuality and all its free choosing boneless chicken breast brands on a ration line at the end of your wallet’s vocabulary all this shop talk hurts the metal in my head the receipt paper in my register steal me running from whatever’s coming ocean stuttering river nothing of a womb far from the picture here’s a shot of what’s just left of what i’m trying to drain or net for something no more decorative than a fish tank in cap locks even the day it leaks i receive a bucket and a chain like a lover and a pallet of colors with no space to write on the covered wall this bedroom covered the last as best it could the skyscraper covered the church did it bigger the snow covered the parking lots like static we played fuzzy and humming inside for 3 days a lit candle refers me to times which will never exist again only in a future fall or winter will a candle’s second splice it all together for those who still exist if that room’s still lit inside them we are each other’s breath all the oxygen in a locked room she was my vent this for them and the mystery in each suite
3.
otherthought 02:09
4.
b-grade eyes 01:31
5.
kicked 03:56
kicked the smoke kept the cancer kicked the comfort kept the swinging foot kicked the can again kept the decade old soup the slop and foot to fall kept the ice and glass lost the tap fell out of my heartbeat pounding a headache stumbled towards a mystic - it was an advertisement kicked the dance kept the shake kicked the cash kept the debt – a body fell out kicked the head kept the interest lost the head kept the weight lost the track kept the train lost the track kept the train lost the train kept the steam kicked the bucket kept breathing kicked confused for confused mis spoke for mis run miss ing again kicked again kept going lost going kicked the fog for the clouds kicked the mist and dew for the hurricane and don’t bit the hand that shot me kept the bullet for biting kicked reacting for (the dead in their) sleep kicked the dream kept the stretch and yawn kicked the stretcher kept the plague kicked the language kept the icon – notation kicked the pebble while keeping walk with its been years it pops my ears to see you another cigarette? and to the spokesman: kicked the smoke for a burnt down house kept the cellar and mold trying to dream sound asleep i’ll sing my way out kicked the dream for the nightmare lost the ice in my drink kicked the keeping kept the kept and the bit left in the bottle kicked the clear kept the can’t see bit the dinner lost the sustenance hit the window while flying out of my seat (in) judgment suspending in catching your (own) breath i kept it in a strawberry jelly jar with air holes kicked the ice kept the drunk kicked the ice kept the drunk lost the ice in my drunk (the memory) this air has holes kicked the door kept it open spilt the drunk kicked the comfort -the house kept the stain another drink? another hole kicked the fill kept the cramp kept the ache for. kicked the order kept the lost kicked the whip hit my back kept the snap kicked the beat lost my head kept the views stayed bleeding kicked the body lost myself stayed bleeding kicked through kept kicking kicked nothing lost everything died awake dreamt nothing came true nothing was proven false kicked the runner kept the same pace dripped the same yellow the sun stains my eye-lids with like welcome rugs at the opening to a day. old like faded newsprint reporting tomorrow like maggots in the pc (candy apple of your eye) kicked the definition kept the ambiguity kicked walking into walls or myself sleep-talking as someone else kept the tone kicked to sleep plague my speech blur the blur kick the mountain keep the tip photocopy it carbon copy it tell them to get it confuse and dilute it keep the interest kick the reason take the pill shoot the doctor (‘s {encapsulated} minions) drink the lose down the downer eat the where (wear) kick the kicking still off balance and falling foot over millisecond hit the pavement beat the fist catch your breath kicked the next minute kept last month kicked myself kept unkempt keeping on i kept it in a grape jelly jar with loop holes kicked the circle back to perfect distorted the canvas bought the buying sold the out sold out the value kicked the comfort kept the swinging body kicked the breath out (breathe out) kept the dizzy the spinning room this is not where i’m sleeping (tonight)
6.
7.
cripplespeak 03:04
8.
fun 04:23
9.
10.
11.
bombs 04:17
12.
13.

about

New Free Full-length Digital LP from Two Ton Sloth (brad hamers and big pauper)...dec 2009

credits

released December 30, 2009

Brad Hamers and PZ (Big Pauper)
Token Recluse Recordings

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about

brad hamers Portland, Oregon

writer, music-maker, collage-maker,, performance-maker, loud dreamer, mental gymnast

(member of: Through Flames, Child Of No Nation, Cat Child, Dust On Snow, Two Ton Sloth, Phlegm and Al Límite Collective)

Artist at Shrine13

www.bradhamers.com
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