life through music sketch
a life in music
plonk a world out of a keyboard
surf emotion through a keypad
reach
not for the stars but
for
a sod of earth
find a musical scale
on which to weigh
your ounce of blood
and soil.
life through music sketch
a life in music
plonk a world out of a keyboard
surf emotion through a keypad
reach
not for the stars but
for
a sod of earth
find a musical scale
on which to weigh
your ounce of blood
and soil.
and so you come to me like I’m the doctor
oh yes your dispenser of comfort services
your veritable protector of the lame and there
you shine
as if the palm trees are offering you a personal service
a service of shade specifically designed for you
and
you make no bones
you declare
that all the city roads were built for you oh yes
to carry you my way on hyper-heated pavements cast with exclusive carriage rights
for your inflated, corrupted heart oh yes said without rancour
two skipped eye lash flickers the last Days of Succour
no irony utter candour take this not that:
Me: mad flash wheeled dog weed euro-trash.
You: Texan Rose electrolyzed chrome neon pink
paint job galvanization anti-rust guarantee
and
once we sat rotating on a carousel in a car shaped like a tea cup oh yes
a hand picked rose Sung yellow sheet metal small white daisies templated
on thin curved steel from Allentown PA a nice battered riveted plate
a long way from east coast cloud and grime and we are next to a spinning,
grinning Dumbo
The simple velocity was enough to bind me to you, oh yes
simple times convex emotions whirling us in some
Carthusian orbit observe
Me: The Denialist a lost uncertain superhero looking for a
comic strip to haunt.
You: the wanton hedonist
looking for
a safe house
maybemaybemaybe
a warming glass perhaps oh yes
of Merlot to wash down the pills
as
you come to me
like
I am
the
doctor
the weave and stagger of a saxophone thick in the hot desert air straight out
of The Mojave
smelter
blasting
and you hang on every note whilst still fingering your keys
and I saw you there in
The Salamander sat at the bar,
smooth legs and denim spray on shorts men transfixed by a red wet look bra top
with dykes flitting at your elbows wishing plotting
you laughing oh yes glittering giggles aloof but wanton snickerings
full on lips stretched tight
over expensive teeth that got you that part, you know the one oh yes that one
in that TV mini-series a big break from the skin flicks in beach houses
on Hermosa Beach and villas hired by the hour in
Santa Barbara and lock-ups over in Watts
and
AND
I knew of all that but you knew you could rely on me to keep it quiet
and oh yes I’m watching you now with my lazy eye
as you stagger-swagger with diabolical intent to soul- steal
from the already sad and depleted to filch and chew indolent senses
and why not oh yes
as
you
come
to
me
like
I’m
the
doctor
still your erstwhile dispenser of remedies for the maladies
clawing at your brain
me oh yes all shiny spic-and-span paint on new world grin learned well
from knowing colonialists slapped on with skill across old world lips given extra dimensional interest by European louche and you
dizzying your senses bug glass black eyes
oh yes
telling me you hate daylight and bougainvillea and
garden lions you need me to shroud you and
make the sun go away maybe a few weeks in
the mountains a timber lodge play acting at being
a nice husband and wife with regular jobs
shop in Big Bear City remember East Cinderella Drive?
Perhaps pretend we are out of Fort Smith AR
or is that too parochial maybemaybemaybe who knows
but it’s not no way and is it not obtuse to be wondering if maybe
perhaps somehow there’s many a million like us right now ensnared deep within this
metropolitan cage?
No doubt oh yes on street light aluminum barbs and concrete pegs and
razor sharp roadsign devices designed to extract contrition oh yes
probably
in a city that wouldn’t be here if not for a fantastic thirst
so go ahead return home where all your drugged trajectories end
like a badly fused bomb dropped on expectant
civilian populations oh come nuclear heat please do come
when is it going to be me when is it going to be me
So.
Throw your keys on the kitchen counter.
Demand OJ laced with Smirnoff.
Bark an enquiry about where the fuck is your Halston bikini.
Coming to me after a forty-hour AWOL jag
as if I’m the doctor your own little book of
calm a good man in a storm and
….observe…
Spilled purse by a burnt out toaster next to
an erratic splay of over-ripened bananas:
cellphone credit cards Rizlas ancient battered
tin of grass packet of Moroccan small red box
of E’s condoms all of your own remedies you don’t need
me fuck me study the storm clouds rolling in off of the Pacific oh yes
your wish of vanquished sunlight to be granted
by dancing electric weather so:
go pick your keys up from the driveway I haven’t made it hard
for you I
haven’t thrown them
into the bougainvillea for example and I have emptied your
purse in the Roadster on the passenger seat
I haven’t made a mess so:
drink your screwdriver then cruise where ever you wish,
smoke weed on Sunset seeing multiple lanes
and shimmering bars and
just get out of here
not even the allure of those tight
negligible hot pants can make me forgive
not anymore just get out of here
and this time stay away stay distant find another cosmic state
get lost in Paris paint in Bruges get your feet tattooed in
Casablanca dive into Venetian canals late at night bemuse
the Caraberieri just go your own way erase me from digital awareness
coming to me,
like
I’m the doctor.