Honeyfeet - Another Song
Blind Arcade Meets Super Weird Substance - Damn! It's Good To Be Alive
Kindred Shins - She's a Crowd
Dante Elephante - Heartbeat
Santoros - I Didn't Know
Bouts - Missteps
Silverclub - Amorphous Electric
Huon Kind - Stay the Same
Autumn Owls - Bowling Alone
Ballerina Black - Heaven Sent
The Girobabies - Bring Potions
Mary Ocher - My Peers and I
MOVE - Magenta
Liam McClair - Honest
The Higsons - Put The Punk Back Into Funk Parts I & II
She's So Rad - Make Down
A Clock With No Hands
by Howard Nemerov
A moon with Roman numerals, there,
Backed to the wall, in the dim air
Of the abandoned waiting-room.
The door has long since lost its lock,
The track its trains (they run elsewhere).
The empty-headed, run-down clock,
Doom-stricken, is struck dumb.
Woe to the empty-headed vandal
(Time on his hands?) who made this scandal!
What will he do with a pair of hands
Defaced, what will the idle dial,
Short-handed, do? And will time handle
With care the lost goods at the rail-
Head where the boxcar stands?
Impossible to tell the hour
That threw the switch, cut off the power,
Rerouted or derailed the last
Express some stations down the line
Forever; the high signal tower
Stands in the yard and gives no sign
Of passage to the past.
Idolater, this moony god,
Whose sleight-of-hand will run no road,
May blandly yet discountenance
Your travels where the still mainspring
Behind the even and the odd
Hides in its coiled continuing
A venomous tense past tense.