Gousting (A Sexual Nightmare)

from by IAN

  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

      $1 USD  or more



Beginning with a joke. An erotic dream goes wrong, is consumed by reality. Or vice versa. "Performance." Sorry, David.


i went gousting (jousting)
trying to find a new tongue to lash with
i had enough words to last a week or two
a sad language was formed anew (could be true)

i pulled apart your curtains (of beads)
and sauntered like a goat inside
and held at the foot of the bed and whined
(inside, how could i ever let it be outside?)
so you smiled and said that you did black cocaine sometimes
i smiled to you and asked you why and you said (that it was sweeter)

and deep inside my mill my heart was skipping beats to the strong curves of judaism
i wondered a hex inside a spoon and flung it to the ceiling

where it stuck hard like an oversized pencil (you know?)

so anyways i puzzled for a minute before asking
would you be making love with me
(would you be making love with me?)
you said— you said—

ahhhhhhhhh! (what did she say to you?)

she said "No," of course,
what else could she say
to my bleats that i beat from out my saw

that sputtered and died like a run-down sphinx
(whatever that could mean, you say)

so i ran like a bitch 'til i got to work
and till my face struck dawn they wouldn't let me breathe
with the exception of the time that time slowed down
and instead of life the room filled with the dead

and i whimpered till my eyes were bugged as the tube
and jelly couldn't tell me when i wanted to wake
and i climbed atop a pyramid and waited for my sphinx to wink

(gifted sphinx, save me from myself)

i whipped up my frustrations
i countered every countercultural
wasteland, over-partied tribe
i wined and dined on those who thrived
on faint mistakes, that's all it takes
and i broke free of such constraints
and painted all my eyelashes
and waited for my house to finish
to the ground


from LANGUAGE, released June 23, 2013



all rights reserved


IAN Chicago, Illinois

A miniature T-Shirt flaps in the wind, and, much like the trail of a snail, a wayward eyeball makes its way to the windshield.

contact / help

Contact IAN

Streaming and
Download help