May the mulberry tree
Give us more than we can eat
May we welcome surplus berries in the sordid summer heat
May the concrete stain with purple where they ripened and fell
They are criminally generous, impossible to sell
Like the mushrooms, ramps, and mint that raise their bodies up as well
May the acorn husks
Turn to small hardy saplings
May the birds make messy nests in all the eaves
And may a latent parsley plant
Push its way out through the pavement
And may ants storm all over its leaves
And may a million volunteers
Burst from the seeds we threw away
In the heap behind the shed
That we turn over every day
I’ve thrown away the cages and the sheers
I hope we have a million volunteers
And I hope the potatoes from the eyelets that I saved
Conspire underneath the earth and rise up from their graves
I have no way of knowing if the tubers there are sound
Storing sunlight in their stockrooms like the Weather Underground
I hope the seed catalogue
Can’t catalogue what we are seeding
And the tendrils are impossible to tame
I hope we don’t know what they are
I hope they baffle Linnaeus
And that Adam couldn’t find a name
And may a million volunteers
Burst from the seeds we threw away
May they hybridize and fuck in a cross-pollen cabaret
May the bed where they once slumbered be the soil where they play
I’ve thrown away the cages and the sheers
I hope we have a million volunteers
The first solo release in over a decade from Bev Lee Harling is a personal travelogue filled with euphoric compositions. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 20, 2021
Recorded live at St Buryan Church, the latest from Sarah McQuaid is a showcase for the simple power of voice & guitar. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 16, 2021