Monkey

For. C.

I may not have had a blowjob by 13
but I sure as hell knew what one was;
seen it on TV, in magazines

I believe the world these days
is making babies out of all of us
but making a baby of yourself
is a whole other matter

Besides
every revolution of Nostalgia
is a false promise

There are no returns in change
only fresh new ground

There is no resistance in the Past
only one thing passing away into another

We are not haunting ourselves
not the lingering
of all our past lives

What's it matter if we remember anything?

The Past knows nothing of its Future
It can only lie about the Present

So
Maybe it aint your fault
saying you was Baby Huey as a teenage

Maybe that's just what looking back is:
not seeing the Present
not seeing the Truth

Maybe he looked like a monkey
Lots of people look like lots of things

My beard's grown so long
that my face looks long and brown
like a Horse

It don't mean nothing
if you say I look like an Ass
If I do

Breaking Up The Weeds

For D.

Its time to start throwing things away
again
Its alright with me though
I like it

I'm throwing away mp3s
they don't even take up any real space
I just like weeding out the shit

For the whole of last week
I've been going in alphabetical order
through all of my albums
and only playing the one's
of which I had any doubt
as to their Authenticity

I haven't gotten rid of much
really a few
but its just about making the decision
looking at something with a square eye
determining if its worth a good goddamn
and choosing to
either
take it or leave it

Hearing Only the Frequency

Trust me when I say

that everything I have

is yours

that everything I say

I say to you specifically

Trust me when I say

I will never lie to you

If you ever find yourself

giving into the demands

of an animal

you should reevaluate

your analytical processes

You're better than the animals

You've got to try and believe me

You've got to believe you're better than an animal

You're better than the animals

You've got to try and believe me

Solid Conservative Sentence

What they call classy these days used to pass as common decency.

No Egos

I know that sometimes people
have to talk over me
I'm not yet sure
if its a problem

I'm sure
I've got a streak of  sadomasochism in me
that would make Freud kick a mule
I'm certain all heroes do

It's not a crime to imagine yourself brave
at least not in my book
Courage always Courage
and there is no unsure thing

I believe volume has power too
but not in the way
that preachers on the capital steps
use it

The real thing
is always an unconscious
byproduct of belief
that what one says is right

It's not a crime to believe something is right
not in my book anyway
Righteous always Righteous
and there is no unsure thing

Femme Noir

A Romance Novel

Stockholm, 1973


"You don't love this life.
You've just been in its grasp for so long,
that you don't know what you'd be
without it."

Then he unsheathed his dagger...

Homesickness

Its alright if you miss it
It really is
but its a whole other thing
to live for things
you're bound to miss

You can't focus on things
you're bound to miss
You can see traces of them
everywhere
It gets overwhelming
just looking anywhere at all

One day I'll rewrite Descarte's Meditations
One day it'll make sense enough to me
So that I'll rewrite Descarte's Meditations
One day they'll have to ask
if I rewrote it at all

Folk Music

Folk Music

Liberates the Consciousness of the People

It used to take two Chords

and a pretty good Story

But the People these Days

aren't really into that sort of Thing

Arizona

I wrote 4 songs tonight

Now, that's not exactly true

I wrote 1/2 of one

finished 2

and took a cold, hard, look at an old 1

But finishing something

is a hell of an accomplishment

anyway

and that aint but half of what I did

I'm fibbing,

I didn't mean to

I just realized something just now

that makes me from a second ago

an outright fabricator

I might've wrote 1 and a 1/2 songs today

because two of the songs I finished

are mashed together

and I don't know what that counts for

Lately, I've been thinking alot about Art

I got this professor

always talking about "designation"

(which I don't give a shit about)

as a necessary requirement

for something to be Art

Like we all need more Authorities in our lives

So I dedicated a song to R.G. Collingwood

its an expressionist lyric

he oughta like that

"Collingwood"

When you were a writer

You were in love with your words

You wrote all those letters

Until you lost your nerve

What did you see?

Only the Mountains and the deep blue Sea

& What did you hear?

Only the Birds, Only the Birds, Only the Birds

Were There

Now that you are a painter

You're in love with all you see

You paint all your pictures

& then you ask it of me

What did you see?

Only the Mountains and the deep blue Sea

& What did you hear?

Only the Birds, Only the Birds, Only the Birds

Were There

~

There's an outro to it too

but there's no words

I like to think of it as a Dillemma

which is the same thing to me

as saying the Blues

It brings the melody into a more major

but way stranger space

in 6/4

(With the #s indicating number of measures)

Em G Em G F Fm B7 C7 Cm7 G B7 Em

2 2 2 2 1 1 2 1 1 2 2 2

It's sad and triumphant

the way I like 'em

Really wants a horn

but they're hard to find around here

and I find my mind

drifting off to Arizona

and my lonesome heart

trailing behind

I already done fucked that up

because all that above

comes at the end

and now its all out of order

but it don't matter really

there are always ways

of stranding things together

I wrote the next section first

and its been a minute too

but the words got me thinking

and seeing them in their own light

reminded me of a friend from the Service

That aint true really either

I knew the guy

but I wouldn't call 'em a friend

We were in the same company

and had a couple chances

to shoot the shit together

anyway

he was killed in Afghanistan

guess a week or so now

but it breaks my heart

anyway

"Snow Song"

That idiot drummer

He marched through the summer

Beating his drum

Till it snowed, playing,

"I'm Coming Home"

"I'm Coming Home"

Your soft-hearted sister

She's down by the river

Singing the only song

That she knows

"I'm Coming Home"

"I'm Coming Home"

Because

The Bells in the Alley, they clang

So Slow

And the Horns in the Army, they sing

So Slow

So don't Go

Back to the Snow

Without Me

~

That last bit I wrote

thinking about that kid

AJ Creighton

Who knows if he'd appreciate it

Anyway,

Dedications from Strangers

are more necessary to Art

Than Designations from Anybody

I know they don't make much sense together

at first glance

and they're not really supposed to

in any logical way

but its never been about logic

Anyway

How It All Works

For Stephanie

I've often wondered

whether being a Deconstructionist

affects my marriage

My wife, I think she's one too

even if she don't know it

But its hard to believe

that all that talk of différance

doesn't have some effect

This morning we had a tift

it didn't get out of hand or anything

it was about (t)ime

late mornings are always like that

We went to Gardens In A Flower Pot

on Little Creek

for potting soil

picked up three plants for that

shady oppressive strip of the backyard

Went looking for something called a Leopard Plant

picked up two Gold Dusts

which I think

are probably some version of the same thing

and some Gardenias

which took us by surprise

and we both happen to like

Got home and put away the groceries we picked up

then out to the yard for an hour or so

breaking up the soil, the vines, the weeds,

shoveling and planting

Made tacos for lunch

and Stef started slicing up some pork to marinate

She had it on lock down

but I was cleaning up anyway

She said

Thanks for helping

I said, earnestly,

I know its not your favorite part

She agreed

That's the destructive part

I like the constructive part

I don't remember if I said it or not

but I, at least, thought

That's an interesting way to think about it

Went back out for a smoke

and took a solid look at the garden we planted

It looked real good

but it got us thinking about other projects

to beautify the backyard

We talked about creating spaces

the Shade Garden,

the Vegetable Circle,

not trying to manipulate the grounds

make things all forced and alien;

just clearly mark out lines

doing what little work is necessary

to make that space make sense

In the corner of the yard

in the far back left:

An old tenant had dug for a pool

must've been a real hack-job

dumped the dug-up earth

back there and since

the Bamboo has been spreading

covering the ignored mass

taking up a good 8th of the lawn

I told her I'd like to cut down some of that Bamboo

not all of it

just enough to create a clear enclosure

make a circular space

surrounded by the tallest stalks

shadowed by the canopy

I couldn't wait to get to work

I took out the big garden shears

and started

hacking away at it

I told her

I like the destructive part

She said

Its different

you're destroying things

to create a space

I replied

That sentence right there

is exactly what I mean by Deconstruction

The Plight of the Antihero

Fashion Fascination

Fashion Fascination

The dog eats things in the yard

I don't know what they are

but she never needs more then she takes

I've lost the will

For a minute there

I thought the wife had taken the only pack of smokes

and I was wrapped up in the usual blinding terror

of

Going to the Store

Then I realized

I left them in my coat pocket

and I was wrong to say those things

I say in my head

about

expectations

No one gets a fair deal with Hope

It's always a sacrifice

and nothing about sacrifice

ever works

Rhetoric

Pretend for a second

that you actually took everybody seriously

That's pretty much how it is

anyway

I know I owe a few of the very few you

something on the Metaphysics of Text

The word's getting around

should really start putting the pieces together

Shortened Manifesto

for K.

It's good to see we finally got it together

We've been a'searching too damn long

Remember me back to California

Days drinking in the Dark

We won't be back till next Decemeber

and its been too damn long

To go back now

Think about those things

which happen all the time

Aint it like they've happened before

Aint it like they'll never happen again

Cyborg Puppet Show Theatre

For A.

Know when you look into the tiny hearts of men

(no bigger than a fist, clenching

Every other beat

that old, malleable stone of certainty)

That what you see there is blind Terror

I would experiment with the sublim(inal)

We know the universe

is

an ever-expanding, undefinable, space

Yet nobody feels inclined to say the same

of

themselves

We are all behind the wheel

simultaneously

Music playing Loud

singing, screaming,

Hung out on the Line

I am a Jew Lost in the Wilderness

We were the chosen people

and they threw us to the lions

Nowadays,

who can say any different?

Reasons to Like Shakespeare

I watched the Kenneth Branagh's version of Henry V

The actor playing the Duke of York was hefty & bearded

True to life, as I understand it

He rides into the Battle of Agincourt wielding a mace

and proceeds to rain thick armed blows

onto the skulls of British History

He dies fighting, clutching to his slain cousin

a monument to chivalric heroism

I got a soft spot for big bearded bastards

beating the shit out of people

Truth is though,

the battlefield was a woodstock sized mudpit

and having been dismounted

he couldn't heave his heavily armored fat ass up

and drowned there face down in the muck

I got my reasons for liking Shakespeare

Econ Convos

I think it might be better

if I didn't read quite as much

Maybe then I could say things

with some kind of certainty

instead of blathering like an idiot

I tell myself it's worth it

in so far as I'm being sincere

and though sincerity is not truth

I'm still willing to bet

it's the best chance I got

It's pretty obvious why guys

feel like they have to lie their way

into some poor thing's panties

By the sound of me I'd guess

there is no other way

Lou Reed Through The Speakers

The guy on the couch

wearing a Fender shirt

doesn't play

Doesn't know who's in the scene

or where the scene's at

I don't mistake chance encounters

as being any different

than run-ins with old friends

Everything's a shot in the dark

aimed at the future

If you've got to shoot at something

it's probably best

if your target never gets any closer

It never fails

songs come on the radio

Lou Reed sings Walk on the Wild Side

and a few people lip sync along

but none of them look to see

who is doing the black girl's part

decked out in imaginary sequins

or who's taking the cool lead

only who sees them singing

silently

Matter of Perspective

There are only two kinds of days

The first are the ones I fuck up

The second are the ones that I don't

My whole life can be whittled down to that

I'd like to think I learn from my mistakes

but if I did, you'd have to believe,

I would've run out of things to fuck up by now

but it doesn't seem to be the case

I never wanted to be Superman

or live any kind of exceptional life

& I don't think its too much to ask

to not burn dinner,

tear a pair of pants,

or slip in the mud

but I don't even really know who to ask

I suppose there are people out there

who have loads of money lying around

& they pay other people to fuck up for them

I could see myself in that line of work

or maybe more accurately,

I can't see myself doing much else

Growing Up Punk

Dan came and went without much fanfare

but that's the way it goes with the old crew

It's been years and half a country's travel

but it's just coming over

having a couple of beers

sharing space

where there's always space to spare

It's not to say it wasn't a pleasure

He's easy on the nerves,

good humored, and up for anything

Besides,

seeing any of that lot

always leaves me shaking my head

Everything has changed

but everyone's the same

Maybe a little mellower,

a bit more sure-footed,

but otherwise unchanged

I grew up punk as fuck

sure as shit that no one over thirty

could be trusted with a pocket knife

I assume most of us did

and when Cobain pulled the trigger

I think,

subconsciously,

that suspicion was confirmed

Maybe he was convinced

he was ahead of his time

and when he didn't see the light

at the end of the tunnel of success

he figured it wasn't going to come at all

Maybe he saw another underpass in the distance

or

realized there was never any tube to begin with

either way,

I never thought he was much of a voice for anybody

and what he saw rounding the corner of 3 decades

I aint yet seen in the way of anyone I know

The last night Dan was here,

he got drunk enough to make small talk

like he does

like every question

requires an overcoming of some mental blockade

so each simple inquiry is blurted out

with just a little too much urgency,

and a bit more volume than is normal for him,

appearing just that much more dire

& worth some well thought-out reply

I've always been sure it was unintentional

but I still get a kick out of it

thinking too deep about some simple question

I wonder if everyone does that to him

after all these years

I've never asked