Unmoved - Dirty Projectors

The leaves hang limp

And motionless

And the hairs on my arm

Rest against my skin

Unmoved

The whispering wind

Of a moment ago

They are still for now

They are still just now

And in the silence

I swear to God

I can hear the sounds

Of the interstate

Unmoved

The softer shell

I ate somedays ago

Was fried and battered

Soggy and compromised

Now I carry a basket

Of exoskeletons

Down the road I’m on

Unmoved