We lit the yahrzeit candle for my grandfather. Nothing about this year, like that year, feels like a holiday. Autolycus still clings to my shoulder.
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- 1: I cannot feel it, the veil of black, a fine spray of white paint
- 2: Pilgrimage, private life, mortality
- 3: My dream house is a negative space of rock
- 4: Your spirit watched me up the stairs
- 5: No, I'll build a cute flower border
- 6: If you don't want the death of the party after I'm gone, sing one for me
- 7: Life, a series of memorials and signals
- 8: Once you've gone, remains the question, baby
- 9: Does everybody know he's a ghost?
- 10: Broken like the earth or a name for a first love or a lesson in shame
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