The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

noah wasnt a bad bloke
i mean he tried to do the right thing
he loved ‘is missus
he had three big hefty boys called ham and cant remember the other 2
i mean hams badde enuff
maybe he stopped naming em after that
or was it ham sam and larry….?
does it really matter…
well in a way because they all went off n repopulated erf
w/ their progeny
apres le deluge baybee
after the big big flood
you see yer god was pretty cranky
he reckoned the human beans were pretty lawless n wild
those ungrateful little bastards he fumed
i’ll get their attention
i’ll teach em to carry on like that..
a flood!
one of the angels
probably gabriel
who i imagine looking like peter gabriel
round foxtrot days
but with wings and a lovely trumpet
anyway gabriel says
hang on lordy
aint there one cool cat down there
one true fiend who didst as thou willst
one ok druid who did his thing with style
yer god says
angel, yer right
yer right on the money as per usual ..
are we talking about….?
noah?
noah!
right on lordy, can i help with anything…
can ya fly down there and warn him
yeah you better ask him his favourite song…?
whys that, lordy?
well if he dont get it, you start singin’
raindrops keep falling on thy head….
gotcha ha ha…one other thing?
what is it gabe?
well ah whattabout all the animals?
what?
the animals, the creatures, the beasties, sire?
oh yes, i hadnt really thought about them…..
youll have to re create em, lordy….
oh no not again ….look make sure he takes 2 of each
a male n a female of everything from cockroach to cougars
a good pair of breeders thatll sort it out
as you wish, lordy….i’ll see to it n make it occur

so the following day
noahs out n about
doing his thing
calling in on some olde friends
having a drink a smoke n a laugh
when gabriel appears on the way home
wow an angel says noah
dig it you cool mortal n good friend of someone in high places
what does it all mean my wingy friend?
my man its going to rain
the world will go under
only you n yer fambley will survive
build an big big boat
take some food
you gonna make it alright….!
wow thanks for the tip…are you sure?
yeah says the angel and make sure yer boat is this many cubits!
wow says noah thats a big boat…umm why does it hafta be like that?
oh yeah says the angel…
there was something i forgot to tell ya…

the next day noahs wife (mrs sark)
she says what?
an angel told you what?
she looked outside at the biblical blue sky n its golden sun
it aint gonna rain this time o year you crazy fool
baby cmon on now says noah just help me get this gig together
where are the boys?
theyre comin over fer dinner tonight, honey says wife
ok thats good and he looked up at the sky again
and only he would have noticed a tiny tiny whispy cloud
a long way up in that burning royal blue

anyway the next bit is pretty tricky to describe
noah n the lads rounded up all these animals somehow
i guess that it was divinely fixed that certain pairs
among each type were in on the whole flood thing
and had been like kinda tranquilised or something
or filled with some kinda understanding by gabriel maybe
how they rounded up polar bears n kangaroos n panda bears
well you can do stuff like that if ya got friends in high places
of course they built this huge boat first
sitting in noahs back garden in the middle of the middle east
a long way from the nearest lake or darling harbour
his neighbours n detractors were laughing at him
you know
giving him a hard time
hey noah can i hire this for my daughters wedding cruise..?
ha ha ha
actually thats an idea for when this whole thing is over said wife
and noah grunted
meanwhile the sky was growing greyer n greyer
a perfect storm was a brewing over noahs necka the woods
downtown the locals were still at it
same old same old
adult-ery
drunkeness
four knee cation
swearing n cursing n mentioning the wrong names
stealing n pinching n robbing each other blind
some of the dirty devils apparently were into bestiality
and thats some disgustin’ stuff
the first drop of rain hit a casino
the second hit a brothel
the third drop of rain landed on a bottle shop in jericho
and then
the sky opened up and it wept
baby it wept
and noah n his lads were still tying up a few loose ends
no hen peacock for example
(yer god wants ‘is peacocks, noah said gabriel)
both cobras had been less then forthcoming
(gabriel played a little tune on his trumpet n they calmed down)
one of the pigs had run off
saying to her husband the boar
horace…the guys name is ham ferchrissakes…!
noah felt those first drops and he yelled out
wow he aint givin’ us much time to wrap up this animal lark..!
they somehow grabbed the last of the beasts
n high tailed it to the boat
noahs wife smashed a bottle of phoenician bubbly
and said
i call this ship the ark
and they all jumped in
batten down the hatches
and it bucketted it down
and the water began to rise n rise
and the sinners began to get a little damp
in their pursuits of happinesses
that were not recommended
crimes against nature
unnatural acts n sordid dealings
avaricious greedy bunch
oh you should take some serious swimming lessons
cos its only just started baby
and it kept on bucketting down
and eventually the ark moved as the water lifted it afloat
luckily yer god had taken care of that tranking business
with the beasties i mean
otherwise you can imagine the chaos in this dark boat
oh i hope noah sealed it according to the angels specs
n didnt skimp on the tar
and how the hell ya gonna feed that lot?
i mean that lion aint gonna like going hungry
while those lambs are walking about
and the mess…
oh dear
seems the boys 3 wives got their hands full
1st wife: what the f#@k?
2nd wife: dont swear dear, this is a biblical recreation
3rd wife: hey i already read this flood story in gilgamesh
1st wife: c’mon its older than that too…
3rd wife : really..?
2nd wife : yeah this is just another remake
1st wife : but we’re trying to put our own slant on it
3rd wife : i still bet silly sods will take it literally though…
all 3 : sigh…..
meanwhile outside
the last of the sinners were clinging to the highest hilltops
as the rest of the world was submerged beneath the flood
as the ark sailed past they begged noah to take em on
please noah take us on
take me on
take on me
ahhhhhh!
but noah ‘d been given the word
no passengers!
and anyway he had his hands full
keeping the porcupines away from the baboons
feeding the new mice arriving all the time now
keeping the bears outta the honey etc etc
a tiger had already had a nibble on a wallaby
and the polar bears were sweltering and very pissed off
the birds were flying about
the cockatoos were squawking n panicking
the ducks had laid eggs and hams wife had trodden on one
what a bloody horrible mess she whinged as she mopped it up
i like eggs said ham
sooner or later everyone drowned
ok it was bit rough on small children who hadnt begin to sin yet
but then
given their environment n their genes
yer god musta reckoned it was inevitable
it was also a bit ruff on other countries far away
like say
australia
where most of the aborigines were in fact
behaving themselves
maybe it wasnt the whole world that flooded
maybe it was just noahs bit of the world
well its impractical to flood the whole world
it just wouldnt work
i mean to get up to everests height
would take a lotta rainwater and it d never dry out
but then again
why did he have those vicious hot polar bears with him then
i dunno
why ask me?
anyway
of course
the rest is history
the rain stopped
the sun came out
a dove came back wiv a leaf in its beak
the water evaporated away…somehow….
and the three lads trudged off in opposite directions
across the damp soggy muddy icky earth
in opposite directions cos theyd all hadda nuff of each other
and they each repopulated the planet with their progeny
(which is kinda silly…didnt they get….duh…interbreeding?)

and noah n mrs sark
did a great trade
dead sea cruises weddings parties bar mitzvahs anything

the storm continues
sydney is lashed and bashed
people go missing
me and girls poke thru wreckage on the beach
assorted bits of fishing tackle
plazzy bags
condoms
shoes
a dead octopus
dead fish
cig lighters
cans
plazzy bottles
sea weed
cuttlefish
sponges
string and rope
netting
sticks
stones
things hard to identify now
cigarette butts seemingly indestructible
jellyfish n bluebottles
the sea has hurled the sand up on the boardwalk
i have never seen that before
and it looked like it had snowed in bondi
out of the purple sky a maelstrom was unleashed
even as we stood there marvelling
sand and rain combining in the air
shot towards you by 100 mile an hour wind
like small concrete icicles ripping at yer face
the heavens open up and you got yer deluge
the sea rears up and roars
and the sky becomes blacker than black
a single star somehow shines forth
a dog is hit by a car across the road
it tries to stand but it falls down again n again
nk gasps and her eyes fill with hot tears
i pull my yellow rubber hood hard over my head
scarlets transparent rain protector keeps inflating
with each gust of wind
woooooh she keeps saying from inside there
we hurry home down the lanes and alleys
past blocks of flats and mini mansions
past the rusting hulks and the bmws
past dripping cactii and soaked armchairs left out for rubbish
lights flare red and white on the wet roads
inside its warm
i see my computer on kitchen table
i approach
and write these
words

tiny ashes falling
extinguished in my eye
inside on a cold day
my extremities frozen
cut off from civilization
this is all i can do
today the sea whipped up the foam
and the sky lashed the spray
and mixed it up with the hurtling rain
the moon pulled up the ocean
and the earth drank deep of its power
i watched from the safety of my mind
behind a wall of sleep
which was weatherproof
as the feeble milky sun tried to appear
the oceans colour changed from sombre metal grey
to an opaque creamy green
and the foam slid down the frozen waves
like in japanese paintings
gulls hovering in white silouhette
eternal day
stormheaded women hurrying home
their husbands blast them in bedrooms
their wrathful powerful men
decisive and unerring
farseeing and deepfeeling
moving towards them through cloudy dawn
holding them in strong golden arms
ever youthful
smelling of distant snows and lavender
tasting of vanilla and bitter coca
slaves to your love, one and all
like hounds on a trail
or runes carved in a dagger
certainty is their unifier
a quarry
a code
a signal in a wink
see daughters appear
flowing lovely lustrous locks
blonde and chestnut brown
go among mankind now
go out into this world
come fortune or disgrace
you must go
and i must relinquish you
as you vanish into the tossing churning leafy suburbs
as the windshields fog and the wipers swish
on afternoons like this when people lie in bed and weep
television lies dumb in yonder room
the storm has left the lines silent
the security cameras dead eye points at the sky unseeing
through a tiny porthole window i see the palms
beaten to a frenzy by the wind
metal shrieks out and stone groans
leaves and flowers fly through the air
gifts will arrive
wanted or not
children become more aware
beautiful children
and callow awful children
and children not really there
children who never grow up
locked in a game with made up rules
or lost in this lost afternoon
broken down in a broken down town
singing la la la to some melody
or deep in a library of talking books
listening to teacher and falling asleep
buses splash through puddles and the lights change
my eyes ache and the grey sky glares
trust me you dont know me
the bridge disappears into the storm
natalie says isnt this a hurricane?
no no sleep little duckling
we are safe
we are protected by poetry
and its umbrella
this world here is my world
look
i can make anything happen
except the storm
which is beyond my control temporarilly
i feel some huge titan is angry
i feel some deep sea monster is rising up
to strangle us in its coils
i feel the horizon collapse under the storms weight
the nucleus implodes and matter turns to dust
i have tampered with fate
i have ignited some fuse
i made some bargain
back then when i didnt understand
is this the result?
this dark day
this wild stupid afternoon
shaking its head all over the place
forcing us down
making us see
letting us breathe
its breath of fresh air
its promise of renewal
its threat of negation

yes
today the twillies turn 16
and in one month
they come to live in australia for one year
your children never turn out how you expect
they always gonna have good and bad surprises for ya
i never coulda predicted elli n minna
they are enigmas to me
always well behaved
polite friendly well spoken
they bring me nothing but pride….
why do i fear a darkness n a sadness
in each of them?
i just want them to be happy
but they are so finely tuned
being identical twins
its a new weird set of problems you never anticipated
for everyone that is
theres somebody else who looks just like you
but doesnt think like you
oh no no no
someone who was there with you in that most private place
the womb
as you 1st took shape
she was there
competing for food
cramping your cramped space
waking you up
kicking you with her new legs
feeling you move and sleep
the twillies came out a bit too soon
minna in particularly was a little underdone
well ok
its hard to believe now
seeing em in malmo
swanning around
i remember once
when they were about 6
me n elli n minna in a stockholm tube station
theres a poster on the wall for snow boarding
minna says oh daddy cant we do that?
i say well you gotta be a grown up to do that…
minna says cant you tell them we’re dwarves?
elli n minna used to like to play the “rough” game
this was basically chucking them at a sofa
that eventually collapsed from too much of that
elli n minna who liked a big bowl of guacomole for dinner
or baked beans on toast and semolina pudding
minna always wanted to walk to school
elli always wanted to take the tube
so we stand there everymorning
having same olde argy bargy
im not walking!
im not going in the tube!
the olde being caught between two diminutive swedish spitfires
and when they fought
they hit hard and without mercy
or kicked each other in the privates
or something like that
i remember once minna writhing about
like she was swimming on the floor
but all this only to each other
like being bound to your opposite
elli used to come with me more than minna
elli flew with me to spain once when i did a solo gig there
on ibiza
she was such good good company
a real companion
but in the end shes grown up very much like me
and strangely minna seems to spend more time with me now
i guess you could say shes more like her mother
anyway both the twills will be getting a bigger dose of me
when they live here
look they are not impressed that im “me”
no in fact maybe they over-compensate a little
theyre determined to be a little unimpressed
they are a bit aloof as it is…
what with their accents and all that…
while talking to sweden today
i also learned that carina
a friend
had died
talk about never had a chance
her father raped her from about 10 on
and his friends
at 13 she ran away n became a prostitute n junky
karin was given temporary guardianship of her
for a while in the early eighties
she was doing great
but the atrocities playing in her head were too much
she went thru a series of abusive brutes who beat her
she went in n out of jails n institutions
she was a dealer and she was hard n tough
when i got into the gear myself
ironically enough
when i lived in sweden
carina was a dealer to me
and i got to know her well
and she was not a person to fool with
she’d deck a man or a woman if she had to
and if you didnt have no money
she wasnt interested in yr sob story
i got to be kinda friends
with her boyfriend janne
who was also a dealer
and in their own way
they really loved each other
i went to a birthday party she threw for him
and all the people there
were junkies n whores n thieves n hard livin’ working class types
still the eight year olde canberra boy in me
looking out going
im in a restaurant on the outskirts of stockholm
its snowing outside
and all these weird sad twisted people
(hey me included!)
these people who didnt ever really have much chance
the abused
the ugly
the easily led
the foolish
the stupid
the painfully shy
the sick from birth n in constant agony
the criminal element
yeah i hung out with these types occaisionally
i drank pear cider n stuck snus in my mouth
(snus is a swedish oral tobacco snuff thing)
i talked my bad swedish
and i was justa sad olde washed up bloke from somewhere to em
then although carina had strictly forbidden it
janne gave me some dope cos i was broke n sick
and if anyone out there thinks sweden is some perfect paradise
i have penetrated this illusion
and come thru to a dark dark side
and i have seen it close up
and its compounded by the dark n cold
and the attitude of the govt n straights
anyway
carina died
of a heart infection brought on by a dirty hit
and it woulda been a terrible way to go
after a life of torment n sadness
of being locked up
and beaten up
anyway
no one can touch her now
i know she has found at least some peace
41 years old she was

happy birthday twillies
see ya later carina

oh killer
working on yer solo album
oh boy its sounding good good good
oh you cant predicked it
timmy boy co producing
timmy boy oh what a wilde card
i turn up yessaday
timmy boy says listen being
oh timmy
man this one is really good
timmy says yeah i sprinkled on a bitta fairy dust
a bitta mellotron
and i blah blah blahed the binklebanks
oh wow
boy this is sounding so o goode
no you wont be guessing how this baby be sounding
master william of radiotronics
hes bubbling and hissing and perc-u-lating
random voices rise n fall in the swampy sounds
nothing like anything else
no
very excited
no more time
will be working more today
will take a while to finish this mess
very happy
you gunna like it
im shore
sk

im back
as i swim n do yoga
i say to my self
what canni feed the fiendss today?
mostly i never know
just like now
i know there are things you want to hear about
but my “creativity” wont go where i want it to
so i let it do what it wants
hence no heyday story
and no
50 things you didnt know about ttb
no mentions of commenters
and all that
i mean
theres so much i could do each day
i never foresaw the commenter thing
when i started
well i didnt foresee anything did i
a bad idea
more time in fronna a computer
jus’ what the doctor didnt order
but that peter podcaste
who is a good mate of mine
oh we’re like brothers really
peter ‘e kept saying
thou shalt blogge beeing
but we never discussed the comments
its grown outta nowhere
suddenly…
theres commenters
and readers who never comment
and others still
still
one thing that is simply laughable
is some notion that this whole thing was started
so i could bathe daily in the glow of praise
or that i wanna cultivate a clique of little beeings
all saying yes master
oh its so far from the truth
you gotta beleave it
i aint into it
im just saying it for the people who occaisionally imply it
please feel free to do as you please
and let the others all do the same
so im just gonna write for a while here
about something
about playing a guitar or something
about writing some songs i wrote once upon a time
these songs i was singing to myself
in the cold grey of some northern winter
and in the half light of my sydney room
and i was coming up with these bits n peaces
i would scribble it down on a mental note
and put it in storage
all my adventures
in italy
in brazil
in america
in scandanavia
as i wandered this wide world
and i rambled and now i just ramble
sitting in a cafe in rome
ordering some gnocchi n red wine
howcome every thing here tastes so good
the bread just on its own…
so im eating this bread
and i dunno who im talking to
some promoter some fan
some eye-talian geezer
and im talking talking
and hes talking n talking
but in my head
im writing this tiny little song
and im imagining something
a melody line
a wonderful night outdoors
an avenue in paris in 1899
lanterns people talking and laughing
oh the long dead women
in my song i start to feel so sad
for all those women from that evening who were oh so alive
each one ….not a trace remains
no one who would remember them still alive
and in my mind i play a minor chord
and in italy at the restaurant the guy is saying
but steve blah blah blah
and slurping down the redwine
and im vibrating to the music of the eternal city
and inside the music takes a downturn into
heavy handed maudlin burlesque
a big guitar descends down n down as it hits the chorus
another part of my mind is uncertain
but im trying to concentrate a little on what the guy said
blah blah blah he said
oh i say
how do you say that in italian?
blah blah blah? he says
yes i say
oh its untranslatable
im just saying it cos i know you werent listening to me
yes i was say i
what was i saying then? he says
you were saying that …….um
then ploogy drives up on a vespa w/ an italian girl
the dinner arrives
we even smoke some hash
its outdoors n no one notices
we play a kinda bowling game next to the restaurant
and ploogy bowls a ball at the guys feet
and the guys really miffed
inside the song is still going
and im remembering a lot of details
i hear it all the french horns the lot
the roman night envelopes us in its bonhomie
more redwine
more hash
some more people turn up
we keep on bowling this weird game
in this little track
its so unlikely
and i keep writing in my head
and keep track of all the other voices
the ones saying youre pathetic
the one saying youre perfect
the ones saying who cares
the ones saying ooh la la
etc
you can imagine
im sure
all that input
im trying to juggle it all
im trying to understand it
im trying to forget myself
pages fly off a calendar
and the screen whirls around n around
its all gone from me
just like that avenue
heading towards that memoryless state
that possessionless place
that great equalizer
hurtling along changing character
shedding my skin
putting on another lifemask
and now todays gone forever too
i hoped for so much
to get so much done
never mind being
tonite more work on martin kennedy song
tomorrow more work on so lo record
keep wrestling with myself
keep cowering from my shadow
my memories crowd in on me now
but soon one day
i will have to relinquish them
and stand naked before space and time
choose a new costume
and jump out of the box
and say
ha ha ha!
its me
im back!

yeah
the afternoon sun
comes down
being in light
being sure to upset someone
being me that is
the me im being for ya
ha ha
amazing how someone sumwear
will get upset
even if you say
simply
love
theyll rail against ya
christ , look what they did to jesus
so why do i still get surprized n dismayed?
too bloody sensy-tive to be in yon agony uncle bizness
oh dont leave me
dont leave me like this
standing here with my olde confused head
my mysterious mynde knocking out this doggerel nonstop
look look
it wont stop
even now can you feel the tumultuous river of words
pouring outta me by the inch and ounce and second
a puddle of sentences ripples round my boots
oh please dont leave me ever
not like this
not in anger
not in that tone of voice
please im sorry oh im so sorry
no no
dont switch off
hold on
im coming thru to you
this blogge is for you
at last
its all about you
its for you
on you
about you
it mentions you all the way thru
look
you you you
i thought we hadda sumthing going here
meeting here like this
on some olde ‘ippys blogge
you know how forgetful the “old fella” is
you of all people who likes all those ambiguous bits
you who can appreciate the art of wilful amnesia
youve watched me all the time thru your prismatic mind
your lovely mind so much sharper than mine now
oh im befuddled yes oh deary me oh my my
oh but i like it i like it i like it i like it
here we go o forgetting all over the world
this is a joke
yes it is
and i love laughing
i love to laugh
here i go
ha ha
you see
but i gaze out at you reproachfully as you pack your things
and just leave me here in the darkness
you know i wont be able to reach you
cant you leave a four wood address or something
who will ever take care of you
oh baby its a wild world
i’ll always rememba ya just like a childe
yes yes
take those gifts i gave ya
all the semi-precious hoo-haa
all those 24 carrot shibboleths
them eeny meeny miney moses
white hippy who speak from burning bush
holds forth on any olde rant
bang bang take that
whats ‘e trying to say
bug eyed if i know
olde kilbeeing in time
olde freckle face pommy ozzie geezer
olde raver and loony
jailburdon and denizen of 3 n half * gaffs
the guy who lost his keys
the fella with the santa claws beard
who wrote some song last century
that guy over there talking to the customs man
he got ‘is 1st bass at 16 n there was no looking bach
oh yeah the olde kilbeeing knew it all would happen
and thats true
he practised on his bass
plucketty plucketty pluck every day after school
see him now 7 baines place lyneham
in his bedge-room
sitting on the flaw
so gangly n awkward
hes a bloody awfull bassist
i wanna reach into the picture
and slap his pretty face
dont try so hard young beeing i’d scream at him
no thatd frighten him too much
i’d just appear and say
softly
softly
kil-boy
oh gently gently
feel it ffeel it
oh kil-boy
you have yer pre-monition of the “big-time”
but you still gotta do some bloody ‘omework
and you gotta do something with yer hair
punk ll bee here in 6 years but the young kil-boy heeds not
his hair gets longer n longer
he keeps plucking that guitar too damn hard n not feeling it
kil-boy keep it up
theres someway you can be yourself here
why are you talking to yourself
i hear you asking
i dunno
i thought youd already gone
and turned off the lights

saturday arvo at the edge of a salty green lake
birds squawk in the trees
fish zip around just under the waters surface
suns rays warming not burning
the fambley walks along on a carpet of grass
up here in the “village” visiting my mother
beautiful profusion of flowers
the kids chatter n argue n run about
we cross the wooden bridge
a field full of seedlings still in their buckets
chimney on otherside of lake puffs out greysmoke
australian afternoon goes on n on
no
nothing here can last for ever
everything in flux
everything tumbling headlong into time
the trees the lake the sky itself
i get older before my eyes
is the mirror lying?
the children get bigger n bigger
gee theyre well made , son says my mother watching them
one day today will be a dream
somewhere to try to get back to
but never succeeding
i remember all the times of my life
the good times
the badde times
the mansfield st days forever over
my childhood so far far away
could i have ever been a childe?
the salad days
the halcyon days
the glory days
the hard yards
the struggles
the white nights which lasted forever
the drives, the long drives
the miles n miles n miles n miles
me driving
ploogy next to me
the other 2 in the back
smoking dope
blasting music
no problems
no responsibility
driving thru the deep night to get somewhere
to play a gig
some motel somewhere
another room another bed another pillow
eat the biscuits n make a cuppa tea
the pool says closes at 10
and its 2 in the morning now
but ploogys already in
i scan thru the tv stations
i change the cassette on my walkman (with dolby)
i undo my suitcase
and a hundred paisley shirts escape
dressed in green suede boots n black levis
grey n red striped shirt
my earrings are blue mexican crosses
i bought in…uh…mexico
my hair is in transition from blonde back to brown
my nose is sunburnt
i need to shave
do i ever wonder how itll be when im nearly 53?
when i have a whole buncha kidss and all the rest
when i have crashed n burnt on the gear
when i have come out the otherside
and worked hard at not being a complete idiot
done ten thousand yoga poses
down ten thousand laps
started to paint
started to act
started to blogge
as my veins return
but my conscience still troubled
all the havoc i personally supervised
oh dont be hard on yerself beeing somesay
oh dont be too soft on yerself either say others
thats what got ya in that mess
people say we love you beeing
thank you people oh thank you
love plus gratitude are the keywords
the words that make the water crystals so pretty
you think i turn my nose up at any love
i accept any love you offer, humbly
but i hate schmaltziness n sentimentality
and giving some cynical smartass a chance
to write a scathing comment about us
because i have been a withering cynic of
ugly proportions
and ultimately
its so easy to be horrible
and so hard to really lay yourself open
and say i love you
even if its just on a computer
to some ancient hippy druid
who once accidentally wrote a song
yer sister played once
and ya got to like it…
my readers
my fiendss
my detractors
those bored
those who can be bothered
this is my life
the only one that sk is gonna get
thanks for being here
thanks for shoulders to cry on
thanks for the nice things you write
dont ever be sycophants
dont ever be yes men
dont be nassty to me for the sake of it
here i am
your avuncular second rate prophet
your renaissance geezer
your delicate bricklayer
a huge vocabulary but i say fuck
i never foresaw all this
im appreciating it
my fambley
my readers
my second chance i probably didnae deserve
trying to stay open n keep my edge
i dont wanna turn out a loada sugary syrupy bullshit
but i wanna say i think about what you say to me
gen x blind angel
h. heart
verdelay
melquee
wil-o
johnny g.
a good guy
patrik 12
century house…a lovely bloke
cst of course
~…nice stuff she writes
all the bloody rest
andy candy the nep-tune dude
dave mc duck (no i love yo more…wanna fight?)
rikki tikki rox-tar, you groovy cat
and kat
lady di
therese
queenie h
eekie beaky hollers
leanne
mr or ms b bon or both
god who have i not mentioned yet
jj
erik
all the anonymouses who read but never comment
the people who subscribe n put the not-bacon on my table
peter podcaste who dreamed it all up
matty d (what are you addicted to….bad spelling?)
all the nz crowd …hold on im coming
belfranque who is a troo friend n knight of kilbeedom
allegedly k nejedly another duke of beingland
i know i forgot someone
someone i think
oh i should mention them
being here
cc escherbark
jaime
don joe
anyway
me mums got me tea ready now
(how marilyn manson!)
i gotta go
love to all
and peace
and healing
amanda
i meant the healer needs faith
not the patient
see ya
ttb

which v. famous aussie rocker rang me at 330 in the morning
and left a rambling message on my answering machine?
oh god i cant tell you
and wouldnt mean much to non australian reeders
i guess…
had pea patzises(how do ya spell it) from the maltese joint
in surrey hills
drank a fiji water parked down a side street
with nk and yon goode bumper
we just driving round goofing off
in the winters sun
refo mation comes on
oh god it all comes back to me
living in rozelle in my olde house
91 mansfield street
they should put a plaque up there
and just over the road i had my own proper studio
with all the equipment
pianos n mikes n couches n mixing desks n glass n
little machines with blinking red lights
only trubble was i was on the gear
and couldnt appreciate one iota of it
any way thats where we did the refo
marty was with all about eve
and i guess we didnt have nothing better to do
i think you can tell i wasnt trying too hard
but theres some nice moments nonetheless
oh mr silver please come in
we been waiting for you sucha long time…
i used to stand outside the studio a lot
waiting for a certain white car to pull up
so i could escape the withdrawals starting to gnaw at me
i’d be standing there yawning feeling anxious restless
my eyes would be sore and i’d feel shivery
she said she was gonna be here an hour ago….
huh!
1st thing you learn is you always gotta wait…
yeah all the cliches in spades
anyway shes always late my lady of the gear
and when she rolls up 3 hours late
do i run out and lambast her
“where the hella you been? i been waiting for hours!”
like fuck i do
no
its oh hi
how are ya?
oh yeah lovely day here
on this bleak corner in rozelle
waiting for you oh lady of the gear
im just so happy to see you at all
look heres a loada money
i hadda scrape to find
now please lay that sweet poison on me
cut and underweight as it is
and you can go and see some other poor wretch
whos desperate to see your white holden pull into his street

now by this time tp n pk probably given up on me
waiting outside the studio
not putting too much in today
suddenly i return
they start saying
steve where is the chorus etc
or something
and im saying
see ya inna minute
then i mainline that poison straight into a vein on my arm or leg
and suddenly all that achey restless nauseous nastiness
is replaced with a smack thru my system
its not like an orgasm as some say
it is not comparable
as soon as the stuff is in the bloodstream
you taste it in your throat
and then voila
whatever felt badde
in a split second
feels goode
a pleasant languidness comes on
i feel hungry again
i feel drowsy
i feel like talking
long stupid rambling free associations that no one follows
i set to work on the music
but most of me is missing
the lyrics are tossed off
i cant find anything that really moves me
im in love with the poison and thats it
everything else is a bit of a hassle actually
life is a memory
i dont care about nothing or no one
nearly as much as the poison
the poison possesses me
it talks to me
it tells me my truths
and it justifies my neglect
and shaky shoddy dealings
and pawning n selling my stuff
and borrowing money off…anyone
can ya lend me a hundred bucks…?
jus’ for a few days…
still there are some good moments on the re fo
despite myself
half the tracks are real corkers
its got some good mystery to it
especially me
who cant remember much
except waiting waiting waiting
or falling into a nice coma
while listening to the music
(my fave past time)