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Breakfast At The Coliseum

by Samuel Sandoval

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1.
(Part I) I won a contest, I’m learning how to fume. Hiding space, your face bled through. Maybe I’m lost, did I hurt the muse? I can’t play the snare or Arcadian tunes. It’s not my lagoon. Maybe the bombs are set to stun? Simulations of how to run? ‘You’ll be needed in a garden rush. Help your brother succeed at dusk. Choices are for the Emperor’s kin.’ This is consequence, not punishment? Howdy new nation, welcome the creed. Who we are is what we feed? “When you’re in the tall grass-” Will there be breakfast time, Refills I don’t have to ask for? A waitress with a smirk who tells me I must burn The bridge between new absurd, To enjoy whatever’s still green, To know that I can’t always be what the world needs. (Part II) Symphony twisted sounds like an applause, ‘Welcome to the stage, this tortoise of art.’ Timpanis listed aren’t down for the cause. Keys shaped like 3’s and are married to a splintering quartet. Sympathy gifted feels like a trap, I’m not the one to sing for the arms of man. No insults to my cloud are ordinary sounds, You’ve proved me mad. You whip the lion, I rip my thread. I clipped the wire because the news wasn’t born yet. (Part III) My flag is welded, never torn. Am I a star or a future urn? Throw my books and my notes into my Old toy box and say I was a man of culture. May I be found shaping love; Antiquating motifs with an oil drum. “But lunchtime will be met Under unconsolable, unfamiliar relations.” Churches will sing when the water turns Into gasoline, when the fighting herds Into my mailbox and says My life can wait and so can the chrysanthemums. I’ll still be a boy, you a girl of poems. Please don’t be asleep while I’m alone. I can see your sundress in the cold, It jubilates my dying story roundabout to home.
2.
Strawberry stain over my stead. Watermelon ravine spills on my wrists. Tomato stone helps my teething. The sand is not meant for sweeping. I miss(ed) the taste of fruit. Now I idolize the strength of roots. Pale is the sky, a humid pool.

credits

released March 16, 2018

Both songs were written and recorded by Samuel Sandoval

Artwork by Emily Alderman
Phil Rieth by Backing Vocals
Ethan Noble by Drums
Released by Funnybone Records

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Samuel Sandoval Meriden, Connecticut

sand-of-all

Samuel writes experimental folk songs that are backed by humble electronics, scattered drums, and anxious melodies. With this established sound, Samuel fills in the gaps with lyrics that explore poetry and conversation, inspired by personal experiences and a love of literature. ... more

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