by Ekra

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written, recorded, produced by Ekra at Seba Seba Studios
mixed and mastered by Mrs. Press at Seba Seba Studios


released October 27, 2009

Mrs. Press - drums/keys/vox
Mr. Press - bass/keys/vox



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Ekra Queens, New York

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Track Name: Intercourse
if you pay me a visit in trembles
i’ll shake quarter dollars for your eyes.
if you help me reach myself
i’ll lend you the boat for your desire.
if you wake up in sorrow
and in my department comply,
i’ll bring the mannequins to life--
break their arms for oars,
so you can paddle to my side.

i’ve been waiting all winter,
been waiting whole lives.
i’ve been holding my spine clear as water,
for the chance to swim through the lights.
Track Name: Sagittarius A
there is safety here--
steam from the beds,
a room of honey,
evidence in the eyes.

we shake without morning.
suffer with roots of a tongue.
we speak as if knowing
is the way back to blood.

the walls are four hunters,
burrow in minds like deer’s guts.
we are never alone,
hope an ax for the prisons in us.

let the sister of your mask
gesture to the open doors.
reproduce your exhausted moths--
concept of earth.

meters in the earth.
meters in what warmth.
Track Name: Exclusive Company
what’s in love has been deterred.
i am shorn and digitate.
being torn,
but these fingers might have direction.
i’ve reached cloverleaf, with four ways left.
japanese beetle come to grease
the greenery in me.

there is greenery in me.

we’ve got ourselves gone real good;
here, in with a kiss, and eye shudder.

to death, here we come.

you’ve got hawks inside you my dear.
Track Name: Earths
swimming rivers
survive in patterned signs.
circulate our sleep to neon lights.
open waters to the horses of age--

it’s philosophy, geometry,
the earth measures its own size;
it’s too vast for me,
the a’s and b’s and function of god return.
break it all pure, break it lean,
deal it out, line it out
till my lids are open and clean,
open and clean.

what it comes down to is a misunderstanding
of words,
and ancient methods calculated in numbers.
i’m searching for something and it all goes--

like extended whale snares
abandoned to an axis of tone,
mourned in the place of fewer throats.

executed in ports of black planks.
i am the lion in the water;
i am the king when i rise,

licking my own oceans dry.
sunrise lost to regicide.
coordinates not safe,
charted stars.

let remnants swallow
the moons of predestination.
arrival at the eclipse.
Track Name: Genetic Drift
someone toss me a bloodline
cause i’m floating in the flood.
at the bottom of the ocean
there’s a muffled sound of sleeping kids
drenched in the brine,
during the day their arms hold me up-
doldrums, dull drums,
doldrums hammering out.
dull drums hammering out.

and where do i rank
amongst all this rain?
dormant? rain.

all this time cause there’s going to be cause.
all this crushing on purpose and reason
with waves.
drown the purpose, the reason, in the waves.
drown the porpoise pulling me to shore.
Track Name: Individuals
what someone finds in a pale horse
with a hearse over its shoulders
on its way to the black house,
while mystified by the notion of energy
over cults,
is like a witch who guarantees an explanation
of your emotion.
with a strange blue streak on a white wall,
you want reality like a sloth backstroking through a beehive
of dreams--

if you find me farming in the wet harvest
slowly thawed from the frost,
ice carving the frame of family.

the day i drowned.

apartments flood with superstitions,
don’t wear black socks in the house.
someone ate ladybugs
like pomegranate seeds from a bowl,
while reciting poems of god’s little cow.
russian milk spilled
from the lips of a peasant man,
whose house burnt down
and grew wings of good fortune,
only after the milk for the fire drowned
his town.

the day i drowned.

awoke in bed, covered in sweat,
dreaming of lovers’ limbs that never intersect.
Track Name: 49 Days
these laments like anatomy,
like muscles and skull.
these nights fill with water and moons
and leave the dawn in gaps,
a place I believe in swells.

everything i do washes through me like a phase,
like a white light in the final stress.

on the air the words stall like birds
waiting for sea.
hope resounds in me like seashells,
a whir of buzzing hymns.

fossils in the hymns, waiting all the while.
everything i do washes through me like a phase,
white light in the final stress.

on the air words stall like birds.
hope resounds.
a whir of buzzing hymns.