Benoît Pioulard - Perfect Parallax

Of Everything That Rhymes

Under the Break Arch

As Would a Weaver

Whose Palms Create

An Image Apart from Ourselves

And Relent

With No Advantage

Shut-Ins on Sunday See

Is in Its Clearest Form

Initial B.P.

The Gilded Fear That Guides the Flow

So Etched in Memory

That Wounded Weathered

A Shade of Celadon

The Very Edge of Its Flame

Rampampam

Никто

Лесник

Прыгну со скалы

Пошла жара

КАК MOMMY

Дурак и молния

Пьяный туман

Алёшка

Можно я с тобой

Птичка

Снежинки

Black Samurai

МАЛИНОВАЯ ЛАДА

По барам