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1. |
Emma
01:54
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Emma
A rose that blooms continually
Emma
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2. |
Ellipsis
03:46
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He kisses
ellipsis
Love or let’s undress?
Ellipsis
He lips this:
“You get three to guess”
Blisses in omission
Mistress’s suspicion
Thoughts got removed from the source
Three-dot won’t get a divorce
Even further from inception
at my friend’s wedding reception
Polka dots adorn my pleats
All but me have left their seats
Circle tables white with sheets
Cloth is clenched with three short beats
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3. |
Flight Simulator
03:00
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Take me to Tokyo in your flight simulator
Love is made specific
over pixelized Pacific
Constant flight command
Destined strip to land
Pilot hearts are prone to stretch
in an atmospheric catch
Two lips press, the air redraws
Blips out old romantic flaws
Hips connect inside the pause
Take me to Tokyo in your flight simulator
Love is made specific
over pixelized Pacific
Constant flight command
Destined strip to land
Boeing bows the earth convex
Spooned into faux airplane sex
What looks like heartwrecks at sea:
computer crashing ecstasy
Eternal skin is next to me
Take me to Tokyo in your flight simulator
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4. |
Chris
03:38
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Chris, this isn’t smart to say
but I liked you right away
Arms looked open from the bus
A week later too much us
I didn’t mean to say no
when our reactions were slow
Now how I wish I could go
back to that
“kiss me later at your place”
Now we’re taking back our space
I could’ve been more demure
with this wink of aperture
How did becoming mature
bring me to
adolescence, then defeat
Womanhood is a repeat
Anyway, I’m Salome
Buses stop and go each day
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5. |
Lucertole
02:26
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I know you get
more out of our knees touching
than out of anything you pay for
Lucertole
marbling every household
Artisanal, and always moving
S-curvaceous reptilian embosses
Squares that click into trysts to cover the losses
Tile puzzle with a design so discreet
This floor isn’t made for feet
So when our limbs
skim pseudo hers to hims
Casually, only as a lesson
(in minutiae throes
all of my hubris slows)
I am above my own impression
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6. |
Linguaglossa
03:39
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Linguaglossa
Lavatongue licks me down from aeroacrophobia
Why am I
shy of the sky?
At Etna’s breastbone,
il fico d’India pricks me with an analgesic
Tricks me to believing I’m at ease
Igniting my hand synapses to seize it
Like a captive sow who mouths her cage, to furrow in the earth somehow
Linguaglossa
Lavatongue licks me down from aeroacrophobia
Swung down the tongue to its tip which is tasting the sea
Turning the fruit, a door opens for you and for me
Elevator, metal piercing to our swimming space,
barely an inhalation bigger than our embrace
and only a few kisses long to endure the descent
My tongue is unable to move, and it’s less than I meant
Why am I
shy of the sky?
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7. |
Everyone's in Love
03:00
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Everyone’s in love ‘cause I am
Do you notice that you are
kissing a kiss that
emanated from a gasp
taken inappropriately
as displaced Brazilian neon
fit to souls of 100 Italian tadpoles? Ciao!
Everyone’s in love ‘cause I am
On gymnasium TVs,
rings crimped, beautiful stomachs
It’s a child after all, lying, desperate skateboard freefall
And that pulsating treadmill heart?
Don’t say it’s only squares of electric measurement. No!
Everyone’s in love ‘cause I am
And that silhouette of skyline’s
not sweet blades of grass you can
settle right up to your mouth?
Blow through -
make a purified sound? Ah…
It cannot be true!
I see you kissing!
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8. |
LED
04:46
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LED
On my bedside table
about to close its eye
As I, too, am slowing
I think of you and cry
Wettened arrow to my heart
Emits you in the glow
Tells me you’ll be knowing
only sleep now, there you go
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9. |
Half
03:59
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I like to make love with my iPod half in your ear, half in mine
Half
What has come over me?
It’s all immagini!
A white mid-sky scar
of all the music’s ever moved me
You you you you you you
You you you you you you
I like to make love with my iPod half in your ear, half in mine
Half
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10. |
Heartache is an Orange
04:56
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Heartache is an orange
Freshly peeled and separating
Six of you are aspirating
Backs curved over cigarettes
Smoking me away sextet
Heartache is an orange
Palmed sun, skin’s apt to tear
Plumped with me enough to scare
Lips are pursed but not to kiss
Love reversed in listless hiss
Heartache is an orange
Faced in, you don’t even know
how far six cigarettes can blow
‘Cause as I eat this summer in
I’m wiping black smoke from my chin
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11. |
Mother
02:23
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I see a mother and a daughter with their backs against the bark of a tree
Looks like my mother and me
Mother
Mother
The daughter told me that this tree in Sicily could whisper secrets if he
was feeling open and free
Mother
Mother
And in this photo where I’m three my Joanie’s sweetly saying something to me
I wonder what could it be?
Mother
Mother
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Amy Kohn Padua, Italy
Amy Kohn is applauded by some of the top composer/producers in modern song: Van Dyke Parks says she’s “Brimming with such talent!” and legendary Producer Arif Mardin dubbed her a “Musical Devil in a Red Dress." Amy always seeks sounds she’s never heard, and it comes through in the “oddly structured beauty” of her highly arranged, effervescent music. ... more
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