Greet the Ground

from by Junior Brother

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Light was bare across the bog as autumn air withdrew,
Yarn and figbits scattered in the wind as well.
The way in which the sparrows fell in to their nettle roosts,
The yews pursued but could not catch their eggs.

So the leaves they curled open about me like burning muscle, as I
Thought I caught a glimpse of shadows crawling over the fog,
Like a quiet cankerworm sliding underneath skin.
[the] following adage began to run around my mind -
Hell's roof is God's ground and God's ground is mine.

I cast the roach I inhaled back into a passing creek,
I locked into it's current, before I could find the key,
They'd me stretched, frenzied, bollocksed, spasming like spastic fish,
With your supper of milk and double whiskey and red, to roll my eyeballs 'round.

Lain long, birdsong,
Lain long, bird.

He's making for the sliding dunes, he melts with the new harvest,
Flocking flies approaching for his body's not yet compost.
Regurgitating heather so that only muck remains,
Sliding to the hills from whence he first came,
The heft of a bull smothered in larvae.

A lucid flight of morning rain uh rises and cries and pelts us,
Rolling winds about the stables from the cobbles come,
Endless ends of jarvey rope will twist like Indian weed,
Whipping only wind and not a horse's smalls again.
It certainly,
Is a sight to see,
A million hatchlings outed,
Dripping from the trees amidst the smell of sizzling crust,
There's not a yew in Aghadoe could catch the falling slop,
It comes between the twigs to greet the ground.
It comes between the twigs to greet the ground.
Now I know, I know what was that sound,
Made me twist my bones and turn around.

Lain long, birdsong


from Fuck Off I Love You, released May 23, 2016



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Junior Brother County Kerry, Ireland

Singer from Co. Kerry, Ireland with an acoustic guitar and tambourine playing experimental folk.

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