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This is a song about storytelling and memory. More literally, this song is about lying in bed hungover, head full of images, connecting them with different lines and juxtaposing them in different ways so the edges bleed into new and interesting arrangements. It’s one way to reimagine remembrance, I guess.


Embedded in each story, a lapsarian distinction
an absolute, withholding “were” from “are”
a predetermined path from omnipresence to extinction
the lines we deftly draw connecting stars

Is it so wrong if I can no longer place
the features correctly together on my face?
I’ve sent away so many ghosts out from my brain
but these days they do
descend in dreams
to dance, it seems
we might just could be
friends again

In thanatotic threadbare, a hazy Sunday morning
when I can’t conceive the circuits in my head
disconnected at each molecule, hungover and unforming
a mist, I float among my unmade bed

but it is only on some shaded degrees
my synapses ever fire more efficiently
and it is only on the sharpest of days
I can connect the dots between the things I see
And things I have to say

I remain, skeptical


from NIGHTLIGHTS I​-​III + TACOMA CENTER 1600, released February 22, 2014




Nana Grizol Athens, Georgia


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