Odes to Joy

This Much Counts as One · Track 5 · middle

Pouce

Pouce — French inch, ~2.7 cm — literally 'thumb'. Volume: I. BODY. ANGLE: A thumb, laid down as law. The tenderness of measuring anything by the part of you that grips. Sing the person or animal inside the unit, never the definition.

No audio yet — generation pending.

Lyrics

I watch you press it to the pine
A fleshy anchor for the line
You push until the pad turns white
To get the heavy timber right
Before the ruler made of brass
We used the bodies that we had
A joint of bone, a crescent nail
To build the ship and weave a sail

We measure the world with the part that grips
The heavy hand and the fingertips
You lay down the law with the very same bone
You use to pull me close when the work is done
It’s a fragile thing to trust
But we build the house from the things we clutch

They took a long-dead ruler's hand
And locked the distance in a vault
So every table in the realm
Would share a single, perfect fault
But metal doesn't have a pulse
Or yield against the cedar grain
It only has a cold demand
That doesn't soften in the rain

We measure the world with the part that grips
The heavy hand and the fingertips
You lay down the law with the very same bone
You use to pull me close when the work is done
It’s a fragile thing to trust
But we build the house from the things we clutch

You don’t even look when you make the score
Your muscle remembers the width of the door
The skin is calloused, the joint has a hitch
You know the distance without the stick
The blood rushes pink when you lift it away

Just a smudge of graphite left to stay
The iron rule is cold and grand
But the house was made by a living hand
Press it down
And hold...
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