by bellwire

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Thanks to Mike and Jack's mom, Liane. Thanks also to Joe Visicano.


released July 13, 2013

Recorded/mixed by Mike. Cover by Sam.



all rights reserved


bellwire Boston, Massachusetts

American solo tour with Jake McKelvie: 6/19 - 7/21.

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Track Name: The Bell Hop
Pretty is to be shy in
clothes that draw attention
and to look bored
in crowded rooms,
come in sunwarm
for iced coffee or anything cool.

I discovered
that tapes don’t hiss––
they splutter
continuously “kisskisskisskisskiss”

Jaymi found a husband on the internet
I got an e-vite to their wedding
and they couldn’t be bet–ter off.

Everybody do the bell hop if you wear sunscreen.
Show a pack of friendly strangers that you can boogie.
Track Name: Leaky Seams
I drop my bag. My key excites a wire.
I’m finished drawing portraits of unhappy tourists.
I never watched the exorcist––
I guess I thought I got the gist.
I’m below a sky my mom would paint above a beach,
but it’s balanced on the pizza hut at central street.

Your backyard was a shrine to summer nights––
a bedsheet theater.
Someone prepped the reel and let it rip––
the camera slipped through leaves.

Then everybody found arms to lock them––
(I’d never have stopped them)––
the movie was scary.
I asked you how you got the projector
and where its connected.
You said, “Next is: Carrie”

A corner tore and your sheet dodged the film.
The picture spread through misting air back to your woods
right when Reagan’s intimate
with a plunging crucifix
in front of trees with tall dark shapes dividing them––
The woods where your cat starved, lost or prodigal.

When I got back the fishtank cracked and spewed,
the fish moved to a puddle.
I picked them from the glass
and cut my finger bad.

My stomach squealed and my voice followed
as though I had swallowed
a half-frozen casserole.
I had all the fish in a pot with
some stitches of carpet,
warm water and blood.
Track Name: Sunsick on Fisher Street
An introvert’s drug palette––
she’s slipping in sunshine.
I might’ve been bland about it,
but I’ll have moods when I have time.

It was not like nighttime––
it was a different kind of day
since the moon did such a good job
of dishing the glow out and paving with light
the whole cul-de-sac we were drifting through on computer chairs
that someone in their wrong mind called trash.