Track Insight / Lyrics
I was golden when the sidewalk took me
One cold fry beneath an August sky
Then the harbor bells began to shake me
Two white wings circled, hovering nigh
And the dust learned how to whisper my name
I landed in a crack beside the clover
Larus argentatus filled the air
Sharp wings clicked like nibs across the dust
Both fought hard where stray footsteps glare
I watched the only witness was a beetle
Half-buried, patient, rooted in soil
Two gulls, one fry, one feud in the gravel
Sharp beaks dividing every crumb
Two gulls, one fry, no truce worth the travel
Both went hungry when the battle strummed
Two gulls, one fry, I watched from the sidewalk
While the salt-white argument ran
The first one named me Public Enemy
The second said I was plainly fair
They scuffed the Senecio beneath the stems
And kicked the dust beyond repair
I felt my crust grow heavier and bitter
With every jealous peck that fell
One gull wore rust across the pinions
One wore silver down its narrow neck
They lunged where clover bent its filaments
And snapped the dry stem at my back
No parent plant could arbitrate this matter
No root could judge the rights they claimed
Two gulls, one fry, one feud in the gravel
Sharp beaks dividing every crumb
Two gulls, one fry, no truce worth the travel
Both went hungry when the battle strummed
Two gulls, one fry, I watched from the sidewalk
While the salt-white argument ran
Then silence settled like a specimen jar
The train rolled softly through the weeds
Two wings withdrew beyond the fence line
My last warm fragment fed the seeds
And in the soil I made a small deposit
Where patience wears its patient plan
By evening, purslane lifted segments
Thick leaves gathered every scattered grain
The gulls departed toward the ferry
Their loud disagreement drowned in rain
I became the field beneath their footsteps
A nameless note inside the loam
Two gulls, one fry, one feud in the gravel
Sharp beaks divide what cannot mend
Two gulls, one fry, no truce worth the travel
Their hunger circles back, my friend
Two gulls, one fry, I watched from the sidewalk
Till earth adopted what remained
The Harbor Bell rang low above the clover
Larus argentatus left the air
My salt and oil sank through the gravel
A quiet sentence planted there
And in the soil my final line is growing
Rooted beneath the footsteps there
