It Has Already Been Said

by Mourning Dove

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i'm here 08:54
there are many signs to m’ville but no town itself it is one hill after another lately, i'm unable though the outer world is so captivating in this morning i could sit in the sun this april has no secrets budding, only the mud of yesterday it snowed a host of my own thoughts which are deeper worlds than any i am enamored, anyway with the hills i am just, resting on the road i had the strange thought i may not love anything life is to invent a want and hold death as i was coming away and then back towards and still to go on differently on the back of the sunday freight to return to that stone i sat on, telling you this is where i began like sin, moths that swarm along the banks now that it is warm, we can grow nothing and let the world do the rest, turn green and etcetera i know in living i grow fainter like a body resting on the unsentimental river carried down, that is something
all was forgotten; as acquaintances in a coffee shop in fact; a dream that we met again; no ill will; no pull; stranger to myself and yourself, who comes and then goes; to put to rest (the poem about there being no grave); kids collapsing false intimacies like milk cartons in the backyard; the great river severed in struts of the rip van winkle; lovelessly; not to watch me wash blood from my hands as i had watched him in the bathroom of keene; before the unconscionable killing of the two deer i saw through your bedroom window; an idealized peaceful resolution; not some cry to the madonna; bare of any feeling as could be imagined; or we met for the first time; a series of dreams repeating: we never met i often dream of peaceful resolutions; the way rivers come apart; no ill will; no pull; walking home after some long ago conversation or moonless night; mutual understanding; a memory of sitting in the field in the duskening autumn; an acknowledgement of the parting of friends; no great feeling except for the land or a forgiveness i have not earned; my gratitude if it did not burn
i'm open 09:31
Excerpts from poetry books by Elena Botts


Elena Botts has lived in the Hudson Valley, Johannesburg, Berlin, NYC, DC, and many other places. In the past few years, her poems have been published in dozens of literary magazines. She is the winner of four poetry contests and has had six books published. Her visual artwork has won numerous awards and has been exhibited in various galleries. She has also collaborated on, released and exhibited sound and moving image art.


Lyrics attached. And words randomized from poetry books (Elena Botts).
Poetry books are for sale:
b-side of the unimaginable


released November 3, 2019

jo/watergarden on "i'm here"
alex/moon fruit and jo/watergarden on "i'm listening"
xela, noa, evan/salt/geffan, danielle on "to anything you have to say"


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Beryllium Moscow, Russia

Independent dark and experimental sound label

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