Here’s another paradox:
In order to change I must fit
Into my body’s nest,
My capacitor plague,
My own golden-eye child—
Into my system:
The one thing I may hate but never quit.
I convince the land
That I want a different land,
Yet my goal is, and always will be
The forest fire
The act itself.
The transitory self between two selves.
Without discomfort it may be impossible.
I want to say that without oppression,
It may be impossible.
But I want to include all my shortcomings.
I can neither wish for change nor mutation;
Both will bring an end to the quest I love most
Unless the quest is—more specifically—a process,
Not the holy grail
Even of my dreams,
And this process might endure indefinitely,
No matter what I believe
And what new gods birth
And what animals consume
The energy of what animals,
What happy hunting grounds integrate
Into a much sadder combination
Of violent and peaceful reality:
A liturgy for the recovering idealist.
That this evening may be holy,
Good, and peaceful,
That we may be pardoned
And forgiven for our sins and offenses,
That we may be bound together
By the Red Queen in communion
Of all thy saints
Entrusting one another
And all our lives to evolution.
from RED QUEEN
released October 17, 2011
Bryan Free: vocals, moogs, trombone, recorder, drum machine
JR Wickman: spoken word
The Julians: vocals
Graeme Enkelis: bass, synth
Nate Purscelley: trumpet
Matthew Henderson: acoustic guitar, percussion
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