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1. |
Last Days of Gaddafi
06:05
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the city fell today. I ate a slice of pizza straight from the microwave and squared the papers on my desk.
somewhere, gunfire up the coast. I look out onto the harbor--
the section fell today. I made a cup of coffee, and watched a couple grains fall from my fingers.
the convoy from house to house -- the white limousine I'll never be inside again--
I fired a shot today, but I missed my man. the french got him anyway. I worked a cramp out of my hand
blown transformer, sparking hot against the desert sun above the parking lot. I sat down in the drainage ditch. "It's okay, kid, what's the matter?"
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2. |
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we got on the bus. Eureka, 1966.
because we liked the flowers painted on it - and the guys on there liked us.
I got sick when we crossed the Russian River: furthest south I'd ever been. the boys brought out their homemade zithers to sing:
about the greening of america; the freeing of the mind. how this is the century of aquarius. red rose, red wine, and bathtub acid in the moonlight.
Jim'd come aboard in Reno, he had that Marlon Brando look. we got Cindy off a farm, cigarette burns on her arm, & headed to SF for the cook. he had a wizard robe and a stethoscope, said "baby it's all here in my little red book"--
Jim took Cindy off to bed in Madison Wisconsin, & when they came back Cindy said she'd eaten her last farmer's breakfast. I thought i saw my parents' car, so I ducked beneath the dashboard -- the boys thought it was hilarious
but boys, that's just the greening of america. It is the freeing of the mind. ya see those stars? that is aquarius, high up above our magic mushrooms in the moonlight.
Cindy is a paralegal. she takes her family to Bob Evans. i've been accountant for the state since 1988, and i don't look up at the heavens.
before Jim starved on Haight St he wrote a little red book about the 60s (in 1974), but i was too wrapped up in Watergate & you can't find a copy anymore.
I just hope that i'm in it, down there by the bank, getting older by the minute - with a joint the size of a Soviet tank...
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3. |
Patriotic Bookstores
03:14
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you don't want to put up a fight? don't put up a fight. you want to move to the suburbs? I cannot stop you. but can I have your TV when you get a bigger TV? yeah, I'll visit, now and again, via commuter rail.
but don't let me see you in that search party. nah i don't wanna see you with a torch in one hand and a gun in the other, pounding on my door. buddy don't let me see you there.
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4. |
Window of Confusion
03:15
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I was selling arms to both sides. I was giving their guys high fives. I was coming out on top of it. I was on my state department shit. I was in my Balenciaga kit.
I was making love 100 nights in 100 rooms full of natural light. In the mornings I'd pace the balcony, afternoons I trained in falconry. My guys bowed their heads when they talked to me.
I was sovereign of 100 lands, had 100 albums in the can - I was playing shows in the UAE, but the blues of kings were new to me, so I turned 100 prows to the open sea,
and journeyed there for 100 years: had 100 songs poured into my ears like so much wine onto golden plates. dug 100 holes to be my grave, broke 100 bowls in 100 ways
and fixed them up with gold and glue. wore thru 100 pairs of shoes. covered in dirt & volcanic ash, met 100 warriors on the path & every last one kicked my ass.
the last of them broke my arms, left me in the furrows of a farm. a farmhand took me in his care. I worked 100 harvests there, played in bands, grew out my hair--
til the rain dried up for 100 days, then it came & washed the weeds away, and then our cows and then our coats and then our kids and then our boat so I grabbed hold of the first thing floating--
and so came back to Dubai, clutching at a neon sign. the sages asked me what i'd done and what i'd seen & I said I'd gone one town away just for fun, but now I'm back no wiser.
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5. |
Moonlight Sonata
04:53
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the surfaces seemed clean, but you left prints on everything. skid marks on the drive & all the red light cameras caught you running 95.
you made it to the fort like a battered cruiser coming in to port. the sergeant took his time inspecting your ID.
you sat by the TV, not seeing or hearing anything - just to watch the flashing light playing on your hands.
and then you were asleep, and there were your hands clutching a carbine, gloved on a parachute, brushing off sand. there were your hands holding a bud light, patting another man's back, locked in a hug. there were your hands, packing a duffel bag with other, smaller bags; doing the dead drop -- and there were your hands, neglecting the details, plastering over a hole in the wall.
you woke up and you coughed, and finally took your body armor off. and you went for a drive past the old tobacco field.
Orion set above the farm - but it's just a bunch of disconnected stars. & when the cop car flashed its brights, you were running 95.
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6. |
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shivering duck preening itself on the rippling water between the floes. this bird is turning. he is "making a return"
to the naked eyes of people sleeping on the beach: men in disguise on the clarence darrow bridge. we can sing and we can suffer. we can buy another set of knives.
but even as we speak, someone is forgetting us.
even as we speak, someone is forgetting us. who's it gonna be this time?
dim chandelier in the abandoned AMC. I have seen this clearly in my sleep. sleep to dream, and wake up catching at the seams.
bold from the blue, downslope of the infinite avenues. cold off the plain - downtown the tall and famous names. damn, who's it gonna be this time?
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7. |
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lyrics omitted for being rather stupid.
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Silo's Choice Chicago, Illinois
jon is a normal guy who is a clerk at a normal type of store. he likes new age music and the beach. he has long hair, for now, but that could change, for instance if his hair were to get burned on the stove. that can happen at any time. he plays music.
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