ELEANOR HAZARD

AND THE

PUNK

HOUSE

there was this weight this secretive knowledge that hung from th ceiling in limp sodden wings it came included with th house somewhere in th edges of its cold cracks thru its many haunts there were eleven diffrent teeth and i knew that i didn't know where but i knew that sometimes one or more than one of my shoes would fill itself with shoegaze when it rained i blamed nothing i still don't

my bedroom had just started biting at some sort of tunnel in its gut like a parasite one that i could hear but couldn't see i lay on th floor and i sang to myself i remembr there was some sort of online netwrk undr my bed that just had to make evrything difficult i had to wait for it to leave and til it did i felt evrything i'd listn to groupr in th closet sometimes and th sound went on forevr on and on til nothing mattered

i've nevr been to pluto but i kept thinking

this is exactly how pluto must feel all th time especially now that it's no longr a planet

don't look now but yr living room

is some sort of unidentified animal that just happns to be tolerating you

i read that on th intrnet in high school once and now i realize it was true you can't always trust what th intrnet says but sometimes

there was some discrepancy in th TV screen or whatevr it considered its identity it made these inspiring sounds sometimes but they came out all mangled th room smelled th same sometimes i'd be looking at th TV and then this lavendr eye all quiet zipper sounds against th static warm milk when i didn't look it happened evn more like have you evr imagined a sister of yrs what do you think she would do if she came home one day

outside there were furry things that nevr learned to growl i just ended up realizing my watch resting its hand on my arm and it turned out to be midnight there are animals in undrplaces all ovr th world making a living off of only existing at midnight there are woods somewhere that i don't know about th things would snuffle loudly with some parts of themselves and hit almost th right notes i heard them ask each othr what hatred was in these unholy iridescent voices i was inside th whole time

hello indecision hello hallway full of evry nothing th birds would eye it up and down but they'd still use it evn though they couldn't see its peak they'd use it as a chest of sorts to put all their thoughts in th kind they had when they were flying and wishing evrything was generally just a little bit easier

i walked thru th hallway and its awesome valley carrying my body on my back like it was some kind of philosophy but something tickled i felt an orchestra i couldn't see something in yr stance had thrown me off a hundred years before and th hallway remained skeptical i took my shoes off even though i couldn't not but nothing changed

one day thru th window that i hadn't built there was a man in a colored hat just licking th glass with his hand shoving his memory at me just with his eyes and th insects were all for it this is still th new millennium aftr all a house is just a larger extra head but i couldn't feel my voice just then or anything othr than th alarm in my mouth th house was playing evry single deerhoof song at once i couldn't find th dining room i just sat in a ball and kept digging

if i had been an octopus back then i would've found a dozen diffrent ways to make myself a completely separate person altogethr you rly don't think about these things when th sun stops

it gets bettr i know that now

so something had happened and i don't think i was real for bits and pieces of it and there was this room that might have been a bedroom or a bridge i'd seen before and in th purple light i coaxed my voice out of th little mouse hole that followed me around sometimes and i told myself i'd take that trip to france one day and rly i just thought and thought and thought about how somewhere in th world there was a tuesday that i wasn't in yet full of orange and ruby and five new things for whoevr i didn't say a single thing about it though i should have

th nxt time i touched my voice i spat out a tooth that wasn't mine

is it summer yet is this art i'd stare into th kitchen thru th undrbrush and all of a sudden i'd be nursing this crush on th world th house was chiseling these teapots out of first names th kitchen was arid but without being cruel kinda like th inside of a grizzly bear it doesn't rly make sense now but i felt like halos pushing on th ceiling but like not rly you know? i lived inside th numbr zero and was fine for a while but then it was gone and i just sort of wanted i made a list of teapots that i don't remembr i paid an unknown fine

th whole time th house kept getting fastr evn though it was supposed to be this bigshot narcotic like cavern bones a billion different miles from a billion different mats of road in europe stretched out like a veil ovr evry angle so many steps that it all just felt crisp and you could go anywhere you wanted as long as you wanted to go exactly where you were

during my trips to th attic i could feel something growing downtown there was a kind of tarantula in th air and just th way th city kept on punishing itself th pines told me they knew a medium once evrything was rhetoric back then and nothing evr came up from th ground except evrything else this one time i sat right by th corner with th smallest tree and kept on turning evrything th city was was so much biggr than what i was

here's a fun little note that i swallowed and found in th sink later on

if i have to think about one more ant i swear to god

th TV wrote th lettrs

INCANDESCNT on th wall i asked them questions as i listened to th static like picture nirvana if they had been born in th industrial age my ears were stung with th monotony at first an impala was leafing thru pages of books it was currently eating th house would hear a yoke dragging close all th doors but there was this image i got almost perfectly from sitting on carpet that liked me th most and a lavendr eye would preach distortion in th clear cave of th living room if only my family friends could’ve seen me i made up a drug without evn trying

yestrday i heard something like eight cops sounding like a drawn-out punishmnt seeping thru th tall blue grass beside my bed can you believe that i can i'd believe anything if it happened at night

wait no that's not right that wasn't yestrday at all

anyway

i don't know how long weeks maybe several episodes a notebook full of evry othr flowr petal at that point a bat would've responded th exact same way to anything i said one day i wandered down th stairs found a dock shooting off into th infinity of th first floor only instead of th ocean i forgot th sky was just a single unfamiliar album stuck on loop and i wasn't wearing shoes i introduced myself to th wood of a billion stumps and walked until i couldn't see myself

thru th window i can see into th weathr which is basically a period of sickening nostalgia but not how yr thinking more like that time i decided i wanted to be a zoologist but muddier than that i've yet to rly get to know th dock like we're both just standing awkwardly around there's an empty bottle i start to miss th feeling of th ocean trying to kill me i wanna build a lighthouse i wanna hand someone something i want th opposite of that i i i me me me me all of this has to get old eventually

i say this in th present tense but what i rly mean is at this point it might not be possible for me to feel anything i haven't felt before

so eithr i reached th edge of th dock or i decided that where i was standing was basically th edge of th dock because i got tired of walking and all around me should've been familiar mess it should've been my kitchen space it should've been these pictures of new zealand but evrywhere i looked was just this silvr climate rocking back and forth there was no epic quest th infrmation age had reached its logical conclusion i looked out ovr rooftops and i couldn't find th dining room i felt this purebred sense of value pressing up against me in th wind singing to th peak of me with ivory-colored evrything but i couldn't let it in i looked up where i thought th sun would be if i were mayor i probably said something like fuck and then i went to bed feeling like a jerk

sometimes i'd get this faceless fear which is a thing that just happens when you love something a lot and i knew it had something to do with june i imagined ice along th spines of park benches one time i woke up and th first thing i thought was absolutely nothing i'm not rly sure that's relevant to anything but i still think about it often

i'm still thinking about things outside of th house i'm doing th exact same things i was doing before but just with entirely diffrent landmarks in my head

my back keeps on doing this thing where it tries desperately to be a conifer and i don't know what that means

th online netwrk had left or else evolved upright i put on th microwave and lay in my bed i did that a lot there was always room on th undrside where th navy blue of th volume was into it where i looked up th meaning of kindness in th dictionary and found a whole othr secret my bedroom as a garden so enormous i could walk thru it for days and nevr stop ignoring what was growing there tilt yr head th way you used to and you still might hear th echo of my footsteps as i tried to skip ahead to th part about th ocean

i dunno if you know this but it was th way i stuck around in that careful little nook on th back of th ceiling a place where i could calm myself by thinking constantly of turning into vapor getting out and becoming a farmer evrybody thinks of that at least once could i do it could i learn to love th raspberries could i finally look th weathr in th face and say what's on my mind could i live into infinity i didn't think i could not unless i decided to grow something easy like farthr apart from evrything real

outside in th snow there was a man wearing a colored hat gnawing at my door with just his fingrtips and profiting somehow making these elephant sounds with his eyes th house was seeing crimson with all th lights turned on at once it sank deepr into evrything trembling visibly with th breathing of th living room while somewhere on th innr lip of a niche i'd smuggled in i found a small cracked tooth and took it home

and then it started growing it started swelling th walls were eating themselves into adulthood as th place filled up with this incessant sound almost like you'd hear on a long drive in novembr worrying th crown of yr ungentle car but wouldn't evn realize you were hearing until aftr you'd gotten where you were going and evryone just sort of scattered and i stopped and said well actually i didn't say anything i just found th TV's delicate buttons i found th static and i turned th volume up until my hair felt good until i took my own advice i looked without seeing anything for a long time

th north is turning a profit there are goat kid tracks in th snow and apartmnts for sale all ovr th place or that's what i keep telling myself i'm so pompous i'm such value i'm a saint i'm in hell i'm th most popular dining spot in eastrn wisconsin i am hurt i am th blindness of a samurai i am th future ghost of thom yorke i am my own worst enemy i am my own ideal mate i like how old i am i like th coast i hate so much of this and i i i

me me me

in th morning it gets easy to deny this evr happened

but that sound it was worse than i imagined when i imagined how a raven nurtures its eggs when i imagined myself as th very last domino when i imagined my grandfathr in th mafia when i imagined my bones wrapped around th throat of a man in a colored hat when i lay in my bed and imagined i were somewhere else and didn't move

at that point i was probably living inside of a mythical creature i was almost gone i was considering describing myself as a poet to othrs th house became centered around th door where th sound was tucked away in waves i set up a tent on th mtn and camped out in front of it staring at th doorknob as though it were polished enough to be beautiful as though i was i hope yr picturing this because i'm sure it was much worse than that th noise cut through th static it forced th blinking out of me so i sat and thought about paint and hieroglyphics and resentmnt and resolved to just stop

it's amazing how things can touch you undr th crack of a door tiny pieces of light th skin of friendly voices something piling up around my feet reminding with little gestures quiet visits we are here still it's amazing how evrything can change th second that you turn yr head

come outside they said thru th door

i said

why should i

and they said

try it

it's not like it can make you feel any worse than you already do

i said well i didn't actually say anything at all

i look back now and think why didn't i touch anything why was i so cold

eventually you look up and you realize that th sun has been there this whole time

it's all so anticlimactic if you rly think about it

and also rly cliché but whatevr

i slept until i felt like i could breathe again i opened th door and th noise stopped

[thanks to evryone who’s made me smile at least once]

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