Sometimes I hear your voice singing in the downpour
So I constructed my house with a tin roof
So I could adore you from a distance
Masochist I must be
Taking your love in any shape that you gave me
Hail is a hell of a first embrace
Your touch running roughshod in tracks of yellows and blues on my ribs making me hesitate
But I quickly learned
It’s better to steal a kiss when your evaporating off the pavement
Than be caught drowning in your presence when the barometric pressure dips
The fog on my glasses the only reminder that you still exist
But still I decide to play the human rain gauge
Every rainfall gathering the few pearls of your existence that my rain coat collects
Filling you in buckets, in cups,
Trying to arrange your precipitated portrait as it once was
There you go again splashing against my windshield as I drive past
The wiper blades catching your silhouette as they cut the last
Drops of you diagonal against the pane
The weatherman, my personal seer prophesying from my radio
Speaking in tongues of atmospheric conditions and pressure systems
Dictating when next we shall meet
But I’ll be ready with my guard up this time, the forecast calls for sleet
This album by Kenyan electronic producer rPH and poet Kins of Spade reflects on the impact of religion in their lives and society. Bandcamp New & Notable May 12, 2023
Poet Douglas Kearney and composer/producer/drummer Val Jeanty link up for a a compelling LP that feels like the written word come to life. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 30, 2021