Eva Moe

  • Two Nails for One Bird: An Analysis of Half Real

    “I’m not writing another one. I refuse.” – Me, before writing another essay about a Geese song. It’s just that I was tossing and turning. Sleepless. Internally harangued. And that’s not a word I use lightly, or ever. The following essay originally appeared in Geesezine Vol 2 alongside beautiful fanart, photographs from Geese’s Getting Killed tour, and other editorials. It has been reformatted here for ease of reading. Thank you!

    He may say that real love is a nail in the wall
    And that’s how a lot of assholes feel
    But that’s not how I feel at all.

    When I was in college we had this drawing professor whose mood you could never guess. He’d always talk about our damn phones and how we’d never make meaningful art so long as they lurked nearby. One day he came to class with a black garbage bag in one hand, and nails and a hammer in the other. He plopped the bag on the table in the center of the room, and gloveless, pulled out two dead crows.

    “Good morning.” 

    He took one of the birds and nailed a dark wing to the white wall. Next wing. He left the other bird on the table, tossing the hammer by its side. 

    “Draw that.” 

    The class let out a collective sigh and slid from our seats, charcoal and sketchbooks in hand. Apparently, that morning our professor was enjoying the sunshine with a mug of hot coffee when lo and behold, the crows were right there lying limp in his yard, dead. How bizarre, he thought. The whole class thought the same thing plus a little extra. This old man killed two birds just to bring to class. 

    For most people, a nail in the wall is used for calendars, artwork, lights, etc. You don’t see it again until you’re moving or redecorating, and you don’t hang art in a place you’re going to leave soon. You poke holes to make a home. Or to remind a bunch of freshmen of your antics. 

    So, if a nail in the wall is what it means to make a home,
    and that’s what people think real love is,
    but that’s not what the speaker believes,
    then the speaker does not believe making a home with someone is what real love is. 

    But if making a home is not what real love is, then what is? And what kind of love is he referring to? Familial, romantic, deep friendship? You can make a home with all three. You can also love these people deeply from across the world. 

    The speaker doesn’t offer a different definition of real love in this song, but the lyrics suggest “our love” is defined by thinking and time. If their love was only half real, then the part that was missing was the nail in the wall. The home. The rest we can assume to be present: the experience of time (good times and bad times happen with longevity), and thinking to the point of exhaustion (Always in the back of my mind / And the front of my mind too.) 

    And what about the math? If it’s half real and that’s half true, then is he being 25% honest? You might say, “Listen lady, it’s not that deep. The lyrics are just whatever nonsense Cameron Winter thinks of in the moment.” And sure, at first glance this song seems like it came from a writer who just wanted to play with language. The ambiguous math, the play on words, its general absurdity. And yet the more I dig, the further I get from the character’s final sentiment, I’ve got no more thinking to do.

    My charcoal sketches turned out pretty well. Thin lines woven around thick ones, the darkest powder black against the newsprint, sharp beak. I stood back from my drawing and frowned. Wings spread, feet dangling. Somehow I had created Crow Jesus. 

    If you want me to pay my taxes / You’d better come over with a crucifix / You’re gonna have to nail me down

    [Hey, that’s a different song!] Dying for our sins, dying for our art, the violence of a nail to keep a lover grounded. Put a dead bird to use and kill a man for his money. Tale as old as time. And the trouble continues. Who is “He”? 

    Unfortunately, we can’t tell why “He” is capitalized because each time “He” is mentioned, it’s at the beginning of a line. So we don’t know if the capitalization is due to form or if it refers to God. But because the rest of the album is peppered with religious symbols, it’s probably God. In which case, the speaker is not only criticizing “how a lot of assholes feel” about love, but also what God may say about it.

    Perhaps I’ve been too stuck on the “wall” part of it. A crucifix is not a wall. But if he’s twisting metaphors, then does the speaker suggest through iconography that Jesus, nailed to a wall for our sins, was not actually enacting real love? That sacrifice for another is not real love? How deep does this all go? [Real] love is mysterious, honey, I’m working the case. Speculation at best. 

    So this song has a lot of meaning but also makes no sense. And dammit if that isn’t love, I don’t know what is. Real love can be experienced from a distance, though if it only exists in your mind, you resign your heart to thought experiments. And while we come from different teachers, I think we can agree that sometimes you gotta behold what others call wrong or “wildly unsanitary” and feel its importance. 

    With Love,
    Eva

    Related Reading:
    With Geese As Our Witness: An Analysis of “Taxes”
    Getting Killed by Boxes: Unpacking with Geese

    Sources: Geese, Half Real, Taxes, Mysterious Love

  • 6/15/2026 what’s she gonna do

    I don’t know where I’m going with this, but there’s some kind of scream coming. Something to topple a tree in a forest or something to charge the dead batteries on the table. I’ve been meaning to take them out.

    It was the familiar ball of fear, strong as a brain in my chest. This was only last week. Can I do this again, can I operate on the wrong side of idiotic versus brave and come through again? Well of course, but will I?

    heh heh heh

    Oh will I? Oh dear oh no will I? What’s she gonna do?

  • Eleven Neighbors

    Everyone in the house had made their own private arrangements. Within the last year, seven had purchased a bottle of alcohol for the occasion, all of which are now open. Nine had saved a day off work, the other two already work from home. All eleven are in the front hall now, laughing with each other, wetting the old rugs with champagne.

    The stage hand takes batteries out of the smoke detectors while the substitute teacher carries a ladder for her. The front and back doors are propped open. Everyone on the ground floor pulls chairs from their apartments to make a circle in the lobby. There’s a speaker bumping the playlist made for this moment.

    Joints and bongs pass around and everyone claims not to be sick, but this is the kind of thing they’d all get sick for anyway. In celebration.

    They plan for a bonfire that weekend. American style, hotdogs and beer and weed for everyone. Talking about it keeps the thrill alive, and everyone’s jokes are funny no matter what is said. But the real celebration must be fresh. The real celebration is now.

    It happened around 1:30 in the morning. Five of them were still awake, and each recounted their stories. Which chair they were sitting on when they heard the news, what song was playing, their initial disbelief. The others woke to knocks on their doors and the sound of cheering.

    There is no need to rest tonight. All there is to do is laugh and share whatever’s in your fridge.

  • Geesezine Vol 2. Feature! “Two Nails for One Bird: An Analysis of Half Real”

    Hello! A few months ago I wrote for the 2nd volume of Geesezine, the (un)official fanzine for the American band Geese. It’s my first publication since college, and I’d forgotten how special it feels to have work published next to someone else’s. We have accidentally collaborated by thinking the same thing at the same time. Check out my pages below and read the full spread here!

    Two Nails for One Bird – An Analysis of Half RealDownload

    He was crazy but that professor really was amazing.

    Until next time,
    Eva Moe

  • List of Listening and Learning Habits: April – May 2026

    Got more CDs for my car, just in time for the potholes to be nearly filled in. Still, driving over a big bump skips the CD, why does that hurt my feelings more than the potential tire damage?

    On Repeat

    1. Labcabincalifornia – The Pharcyde. Great album, genuinely fun despite some of the serious topics discussed, which is the correct recipe for these trying times. Odd to listen to something in 1995 that still feels relevant. Bootie Brown’s clear voice is the cherry on top.
    2. Hayden Pedigo – any of his solo works, but I’ll Be Waving As You Drive Away paired very well with yardwork over the weekend. I was house-sitting for my friends and felt like rearranging their lawn furniture. Outside in the sun on a spring day? Seltzer in hand? Are you kidding?
    3. “Force of Habit” – Paris Texas. Good to walk to and groove with.
    4. Middle of Nowhere – Kacey Musgraves. Just listened for the first time yesterday, so it hasn’t had time to sit. However, I liked her lyrics right away. Thought I’d give her a shot after hearing she’s bringing a teenage mariachi band on tour. The brothers were abducted by ICE this year, and now they’re opening for a big name. I hope this inspires other artists to uplift marginalized communities.
      Partial to “Dry Spell” no reason no reason. Also “Abilene” is quite catchy.

    Japanese Study

    As for learning, I’m back on my bullshit WaniKani and heavy into the Japanese study groove once again. In April, I finished reading my very first manga in Japanese! Why did it take me this long? I don’t know but baby it’s a MILESTONE!

    The manga was Chi’s Sweet Home Vol. 1 which uses mostly kana and some animal pronunciations (which is honestly harder to read than Kanji). Since then, I’ve also finished Vol. 2!

    ALSO just discovered Watanoc.com thanks to the WaniKani forums. It’s a free, online Japanese magazine for N5-N3 learners. You can tell teachers designed this, because it lets you hover over vocabulary and grammar and has a translated summary for each section. ALSO, you aren’t able to hover over vocabulary or grammar that repeats multiple times in an article, so you will get the English definition the first time, but must recall it the next time it appears. It’s not perfect, but it’s fun!

    I like to choose an article, read one section and guess at the meaning. Then hover over vocabulary and grammar I don’t know (hiragana vocab + grammar is currently my weak spot). Then I read the article two more times.

    A fun game is to drink a sip of water/coffee/tea each time there’s a word from WaniKani.

    Stay warm,
    Eva

  • Don’t Be Shy, Mr. President!

    The President loved his first date with her.
    The explosive feel,
    how her tongue looked. How it rained afterwards
    Magical, black rain.
    Everyone’s bloated dance in the river that day.

    And the second
    It was like the whole world ended
    when they kissed the second time.
    The kind of kiss that burns your throat
    and makes you want to talk to gods.
    You do, on days like this.

    He needs it bigger than before, the third
    a human shadow burned in stone
    like no one’s ever seen before
    like no one’s ever heard, you know
    this time he’ll keep his word.

    He’s picking out our lipstick now
    and picking up the phone.
    He wants to make his money now
    He wants to press the button now.
    He wants to lick our blood off now
    He wants to kiss the world.

    After the US dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima in 1945, black rain fell and bodies appeared in the Ota River. Those who survived the blast had terrible symptoms (how her tongue looked) and died hours, days, weeks later suffering constantly.

    This photograph depicts the steps outside a bank. It is called Human Shadow Etched in Stone. More artwork and depictions can be found in A People’s Record of Hiroshima.

    This is what President Truman did, and what President Trump has the authority to do. So when he threatens to bomb an entire civilization “back to the stone ages” this is what he means. Corpses in the rivers, humans evaporated, melted flesh. This is what he’s excited to inflict.

    Hiroshima is now a city dedicated to peace. In monuments around Peace Memorial Park, there are thousands of paper cranes all carrying the wish for world peace. And in 1964, professor Kenzo Tange designed a sculpture called Flame of Peace. It was lit on August 1, 1964 and will “keep burning until the day nuclear weapons disappear from the earth.” I hope that day comes before the President’s third date.

    With love,
    Eva Moe

  • To the Iranian People,

    This website has a relatively small audience, but sometimes my words travel far. As a citizen of the United States, please know I stand with the Iranian people in this reckless war. President Trump is a terrorist. He should’ve been removed from office and prosecuted for his crimes a long time ago.

    I’ve urged my representatives to stop him immediately, but my government is made up of cardboard dolls in suits. The American people do not want you to die. We do not want you to wake up with anxiety. We do not want you to know the sound of bombs and gunfire. Your history is rich and long, and the world is better for it.

    I don’t know how today is going to go or when this will end. I hope you are safe. But if it has to end in bloodshed, let the toll be one.

    Sincerely,
    Eva Moe

  • my special song for big moments

    Ever since August 2008, there’s been one special song I play before every nerve-wracking endeavor: Bennie And The Jets by Elton John. I’ve played it before giving my 2-weeks notice, asking someone out, the first day in a new country and a new life, you get the idea.

    The first time I heard it was in the movie 27 Dresses, and that summer was orchestra camp. It was an hour before our big performance and my nerves wouldn’t let go of me. At the time I kept telling myself, “the song will be the same no matter how good you are or how bad you suck.” Some kind of anchor. And now it’s my tradition! Happy belated birthday, Elton John!

  • song of the day + site update

    the song of the day (a thing i’ve done every day for the last one hundred and eleven years, don’t believe me? go check) is Gustav Holst’s Venus: the Bringer of Peace. It’s a song for lush meadows and cinderella birds

    now for the scheduled March 25th 2026 update: i’m migrating this site to another host…which sounds like a sci-fi movie i don’t wanna watch

    so if you experience bizarre issues here in the coming days my apologies, it’s only because i do not know what i’m doing <3 luv u #loveyou #thanksforreading #musiclover #IThoughtAboutHiringSomeoneButRememberedWhatIDidToMyPocketsThisMonth

  • March 18, 2026 every morning the news is worse than the day before and

    I just need to see some punishment.

    My new mattress arrives in the next few weeks so maybe I’ll be able to sleep through the night again. It’s been a few years. And maybe I’ll sleep so well that my dreams will get longer and stronger and they’ll plug into the power grid, travel to wherever he is. I have so many nightmares to choose from, they are kept in cartridges compatible with the Nintendo Switch 2. My own morality.

    There’s this really good one I used to have a lot. Not gory or gross but it’d get a lot of mileage out of him. It was always a beautiful summer day. I’d be on a track running from a monster, some creature I couldn’t see, but its cold breath would pulse at my back. And just before I’m out of there, out of reach and out to safety, my upper body goes into slow motion. My legs can still move ahead but the rest of me is weighted down, like it’s caught in one of those rubber resistance bands. Feet kicking, trying to tug at the ground to pull me forward but catching only air.

    You can’t move forward. You can’t get away. Almost. You are almost able to save yourself. And then your body goes limp as you realize. The monster was always going to catch you. There was never a speed you could reach that would save you. Perhaps right now we’re watching him run. Perhaps right now he still thinks he can.