A remix of a couple Bon Iver songs.


All day long he scrapes at the earth

trading treasure for treasure.

He bends at the waist, face-down, most often

but rises to watch her.

Her fingers, herb-smeared and nail-bare, toil;

pausing only to scratch the ears of the four-legged.

They’ve come to see her, their Mecca.

She looks up and sees him also, and smiles.

The mountains take notice, nudging one another.

“Such strength from such gentle creatures-

how is it so?”

The Chehalis snakes by and answers:

“Love. It moves in them.”

Now the all-knowing steps into the clearing,

His obsidian coat dew-wet and ragged.

He is the valley’s oldest soul.

Settling in among the strawflowers,

He looks upon the two.

“What a thing to have happened”, He thinks.

“They have found one another,

and it is good.”


Cursed he was

to feel all things and see all people.

What is joy when thousands suffer?

What is darkness when a father cradles tiny feet?

There is no hue

when it all runs together.

When all is brown in time.

Chaos Theory

I read somewhere an insect’s wing shook cities.

It’s hard to prove.

As for me, I know

a wooden fan stirred up strong winds.

They sent me to the ocean.


I fell for a woman who was kind to me.

But kindness feels a lot like cruelty

when you don’t listen right.

When you want more and more and more and more and it’s not coming, sweetheart.

You see, it’s not exactly novel to appreciate a gem

and there’s a million men in line, sweetheart.

Still you wonder.

How was she before the lights?

Probably the same and oh my god to be there.

But you’re not there, sweetheart.

I fell for a woman who was kind to me

but it was just a kindness.