The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

easy to get lost
harder to get found
today is tomorrows yesterday
time is a trick
nobody knows what they or anybody else is thinking
illusory
delusory
an allegory
stuff just happens sometimes
one mans meaning is another mans nonsense
look out for the worms
time, deal me a day
gimme another
lend me a minute then
hey you know me
i’ll fucking pay ya back
(how embarrassing….!)
me…?
no credit…?
but…..
i dont ……
but this three score n ten business….
no margin in it for me
no temperate corridor
no way out
many ways in
a one way night
time wont return my calls
time treats me like fool
time got some much younger friends now
time is so generous to them
and they are so generous with their time
i remember a minute took a week
and youd get a leap year laid on ya
just like that
go in the clock shop
he says no time left here
my stop watch wont stop
my timer is gone all rapido
no no no
this cant be happening
a film of dust
a film of tears
a film of sand n snow
a circus of mad clowns
a baying mob
a glitch in continuity
a gap in the clouds
a monstrous insult
a harrowing hell hound
i look at my face
that cant be me
spring curdles in the air
seven times nine
is it worth your while
it’ll take about halfen hour
meet me by the station
i’ll have plenty on me
you’ll know me by my halo
the weeds are blooming
why are they prettier than the flowers?
i miss italy
i miss carthage
i miss the moon
i’m just some jim-jim
i’m just some surveyor
i’m just about done here
its over
enter return

choices are illusory
our destinies are fixed to stars
all our lines dictated to us at birth
deep horrors inculcated over 50 lives
strange predilections that run deeper than the blood
luck has many faces…one is opportunity
and when your story seems to have run its course
time will provide the addenda
in the beginning there were feelings
feelings of joy
feelings of doubt
feelings of oh why isnt it me?
the start was lying crying in a room helpless
the end will be lying helpless in a room crying
and during…….?
what pleasures among them all will you remember…?
walking on moss in strange forests
the transparent domes of the vanir
your mothers gentle hand
the hot male rut
the hammer and the storm
the bite of life but not its kiss
the warmest evenings by the grey sea
the fire and camaraderie
yes and the warmest dreams of love
and washed out memories of some childhood
a little garden of verses
riding a donkey on the sand
hiding and shivering
brothers
sisters
companions
enemies
here on the page we can say anything
where we merge for a moment
when we should be outside doing something
outside where i ask
outside yourself
outside all this
outside in the cold
outside time
beyond the setting sun
and over all rainbows….
really used to believe in that pot of gold
gold and silver and genies from lamps
why not? i can still see it in my head
relinquishing my post
wandering off into the desert
where i have my visions
damn ask us!
christ
odin
old meph
keep breathing into it
options all open
awareness upshot
buckle in time
the collapse of the sequence of events
mischief
why?
who can say?
no one
no thing
fickle luck
limpid whim
voice from a shell that whispers the seas name
the sacred ash tree
the desire for cold clean water
divest yourself of all things
prepare yourself now….why wait
the familiar will one day be strange
and the light will be as darkness
and you will be unable to accept the charge
and you must rinse all ideas from your mind
when you come to the end of a perfect day
and summer sets on sundays skin
and night comes softly and unannounced
you feel the cool air go past
like you could go anywhere
although now you can
and new is so new
like you crash back through the beginning again
just like before but more after
as you were
when it all began
in such a long long time

spent yessaday involved in a secret malarkey
i have signed confidentiality deal
so sorry cannot spill the beans
even to you lot
but read tomorrows syd daily telegraph or is it the sun?
the crunch are up to their eyeballs in some strange caper
that cant tell ya about just yet
i will when its over
this one came outta left field recently
but onlookers say
they saw a gang of olde reprobate rockers
posing round kings cross in their sharp new clothes
ha ha ha ha ha
you better be watchin’ out for this one
and gee i make myself laff
yesterday my wardrobe guys were saying
steve , do you want some accessories?
no thanks(i hilariously quipped)
at my age i’m more interested in a burial scheme
than having accessories
(accessories!!?) (me!!?)
my fucken accessory is my 4 string fender lovecaster
and my golden halo
the saint who is no saint
and theres my ricky in the paper again yessaday
i got one
my picture of ricki
that only just ever survived at all
there it is in the fucking sydney morning herald
thats a good newspaper friends
and wow
there it/he is
on the whats on guide
pretty as you please
im gonna stick it on my fridge!
sunday finds the c rehearsing for mystery gig
(boring!)
must avoid all and any argy bargy
but sigh
after painkiller i am reluctant to return to
more trodden pastures
i’m being told something by my heart
that my brain hasnt wanted to hear
only my heart can steer my way
and my brain can just work out the logistics
i really believe all directions i pursue may come to fruition
i believe i can be all things to all men
i believe painkiller to be a lovely record
one of the best i or any one ever did
whats the message?
beware…there is magic afoot….
things aint hardly what they seem
what is n whats s’posed to be…thats the question
i am a throwback to men of other times
i am a vanguard of things to come
when men will love language again
and the modern myths will be measured alongside the ancient
and reconciled
and all art and music and literature is ours to plunder
ao io io ao i have no allegiance to no one

bye

post script
i hear natalie say omigod
and comes in with the sunday telegraph
complete with (awful) picture of band
and article with so many errors thats its a jokey joke
and you can find out what we’re doing
read it n weep

i sold the painting of ricki (ricky) (rikki)
uh huh
last night
i’m standin’ there
and i see em put a red sticker on mah ricki
(couldnt a wag have a lotta fun at a gallery and
some of them red stickers)
theres some old aussie hippie n ‘is missus
they bought ricki right from under my eyes
do you like the bjm sir i asked
never ‘erd of em says the bloke
do you know who ricki is ?
i ask
no i just walked in n i knew i had to buy that painting..
the blokes wife says
funny what a few bourbons n coke will do…
i choose to ignore this remark
and i tell him the story of the painting
how i sketched ricki in charcoal one night
while he was eating something at my place
i was sketching a lot of people
with my skinny charcoal that my dear friend amy s had given me
to tell you the truth
i didnt think it was that great
nor did el maymi as i remember
he looked at it n shrugged
uh huh steve….hey i’m gonna give you some new bill nelson
i put it away
later we had some dmt
which was actually the bark n leafy substances
off a perfectly legal wattle tree…not a drug as such
and then my ambitions kinda exploded for painting
and i wanted to get that aureole thing
(“its the aureole flying n fleeing”)
and rickis sketch was one of the first i mucked about with
i had a whole load of paintings
including great ones of eve and brother john
and i fixed em all one day in me shed
(ie i sprayed this poisonous blechh that stops the pastel falling off)
and i sent em all off to america
but fed ex lost em
and i thought ricki had gone down with the lot
last seen : gnome alaska
(after all this time i sent fed ex an angry email last week
still not compensated for my lost paintings after what? 8 months
and having holly show em the paperwork …
yes yes..these paintings were worth about 3 grand
thats what i woulda got for em all if they sold
and one was a commish that had already been paid for
they had let me hang on with no word whatsoever
i wrote em last week n said
dont bullshit me about investigating my case…
what …are there divers off the coast of alaska
sifting thru post it tubes and examining the dna..?
then they wrote back in their laughably bad english….
like ok if you gonna get “offshore” people
to process yer complaints at least make em learn the lingo
after having had my paintings lost
after having no compensation or word for six months
they communicate in some version of pidgin english
that would make mowgli the wolf boy blush
anyhow
theyre paying me a hundred bucks
but not anytime too soon
“this processes may takes up to for weaks before we payee money
and tick box if you wanna sees a picture of my seester with your post it tube”
shhheeeeessh!)
anyway
one day one of my little dorters came running up the stairs
look daddy you still got ricki
(seems he’d been left behind after all)
(scarlet: i like yer ricki i like yer ricki)
so ricki became part of my ohio exhibition
tho he actually predated most of it
then art groupie in australia ear marked it for their exhi
and holly said it coulda sold a few times between now n then
then the smh had it in there
and
there was something about it that people liked
regardless of me or maymi
it was like a hit single of a painting
and the art groupies liked it too
everyone did
oh well now its gone to a good home
but you can still get a print of it
i colourised it later
i put a stupid snakeskin jacket on him too
that he never wore at all
but it was his hair that did it
in the swirling whirls and whorls of his hair
i put all the colours in the book
and people liked that technicolour hair look
anyway again
i watched some more of “get stoned n paint” last nite
my my its coming along a treat
a serious must for artlovers of all ages and sizes
nelg has done a great painstaking job
i believe the total package featuring new music
will be a riccapoodley and a fangdoodly
of course last night n night before been singing with martin kenny d.
i love those songs we wrote n i love singing em
nk and some other friends were impressed
i had major argy bargy and mucho malarkey with taxis getting there
i turned up almost n hour late
the gallery was packed to the rafters
there was free booze
and the fuckin’ place was jumpin’
there were crowds milling round on the street
it was hot n bursting and humid as all hell
on an empty stomach i had 2 wines n a beer n bingo i was pissed
i was all hugs n smiles afterwards
as i wandered round dazed and sweaty
i enjoyed both nights
martin is one of natures real gentleman
and a unique writer n arranger
polinski has already started mixing our record
its like painkillers opposite
its a very interior album
its very warm n soft n intimate n friendly
it doesnt challenge you with spacey bombast
its just very compact pithy poignant songs
i believe we captured something here
more gigs with martin in dec with painkiller
so that was that
nelg survived babysitting the doodles plus woofle plus coco n lola
he lived to tell the tale
c and a-m had a good time (they said)
the kids were all ‘appy
i sold a painting
the gigs were good
and….
well
thats another blogge….!

steve kilbey woke up angry
his house was invaded by waterfowl and small dik-dik
he rose from his bed and personally wrung the neck
of every one of them creatures
before he turned on his kids
in a stoned stupour
thrashing them with copies of his solo albums
he’d found in the cut out bins
and hurling vile insults at them
in a pre-phoenician sea cant he was experimenting with
he looked at his self in the mirror
you know that predictable mirror
with the nightfriends(?!) on the other side
fuck
what a disgrace
fuckin malcolm turnballs got thicker pingis than me
he moaned in his ‘orrible discordant voice
jesus kilbey called out to his childe-bride duckling puig
i know guys of eighty in better shape than me
but his wife had the headphones on
ignoring ‘im n listening to some decent music
get ready for school you little ninny
kilbey roared
grabbing his youngest kid by the neck
but daddy….i’m only a lickle tiny baby said violet kilbey
i dont go to school yet….
well you will today
muttered kilbey
driving his tribe before him like a d-ranged white hippy moses
fucking turnballs got a bigger tribe than me he cursed
as he forced old ladies to cross the road
and put kittens up in trees
the street on the way to school
in fact
any street on any way to any school in sydney
was punctuated with small mountains
of dog poop
all in various stages of ….err…evolution..
most the other citizens didnt seem to mind tho
hey its just a little barkers egg…right?
on a cold morning when ya step in it
and ya have to have the heater on in yer car
stuff like that
or getting it walked into yer house
or vice versa
when people hit it with lawnmowers
or at night
when you cant see a thing
or when babies walk into it
or people slip over on it
or….
no no
it did seem that most people were happy
to hop skip n jump n avoid
the merry reminders from mans best friend
(but er..my best friends have always been er…men)
only crusty grumpy stoopid olde killa
would be angry about a small thing like
the kilos of dog poop strewn across the landscape
and have the gall
to sound off about it on his own blog…
kilbey often carried an axe
with which he beheaded dogs
dolphins
and baby orang-u-tangs
with the cry of
rocknroll!
or in the midnight hour
when he screamed
more more more
he was bitter cos mark see-more got his wag
kilbey was so washed up
that upon applying for a job as a dishwasher
he was refused on the grounds of nepotism
he gotta job distributing pamflits for turnball
but he couldnt get it right
no steve
you put the pamflit in this way!
getting home from his morning paddle in the lagoon
he unleashed his vile bile on his hapless readers
(not a fucking hap amongst ’em!)
oooh so n so was walking out
ooooh so n so dont like me anymore
ooooh so n so thought i was a hippo-critto-potto-mus
ooooh woooh…i’m telling on you
ooooh i know what you did last summer
oooohhh kilbey ate a beer chocolate n tortured a beeline
hey kilbeys head was exploding with all the upson downs
the best song ever anywhere anytime by anyone…
but mal turnballs had stacked the song preselection
by buying the Daily Bilge newspaper
and making sure his own song
“sod democracy i was born to rule”
was the most revered
bugger it!
kilbey thought as he jagged for dugongs
and netted hummingbirds
and pounded out vitriolic tripe
on his cockie-ridden lapptopp
(made from real lapps!)
he dribbled and ranted and became disenchanted
he was losing his precious readers at a terrible rate of attrition
they was walking out left right ad nauseum
some were leaving in retrospect
taking all their old comments out
from years back
please dont go
baby please dont go
kilbey implored ’em
please please me kilbey sang the leavers
leaving by the droves
abandoning ship as it were
kilbey jumped in a life raft
he noticed the other occupants were the wiggles
fuck it he said
as he dived into the sea
the sea of possi-billy-teas
the sea of uncert-aint-‘e
the c below the middle c
and c c ryder
and ride captain ride upon your mystery ship
and the white stripes blue movie
and black francis xavier and francis a sissy
and turnballs richard butler
(he has a butler for every body part!)
and kilbeys chipped teeth
(see ebay for the bit that fell out)
and matty davydsson with his fuckin karate piledriver
and ricki maymi whose painting was printed in the sydney morning herald
while he was up jamming with clark kent
in stu sutcliffes hotel room
and he was only having the primo
but he jumped up n said
“whats happenin’?”
and the rocknroll scientist in his lab coat
he was torturing me with elton john records
and creed
and the the wit-limbs
and the monicas
and malcolms john butler
and i am i am i am
but not you am i
and i was on the tv
and my mums getting her knee done on monday
please send the flowers to narnia
i am experiencing a temporary epiphany
norbal service will be rezoomed
is he having a laugh?
the anons have won a great victory over east asia
oceania is now our friend
bring the wag on
there ought to be clowns…
let the muse speak
muse: i…..
thats enough
a storm in a tiny tea cup
a kerfuffle
a scuffle in a toy shop
do what you want
go where you will
you are free
all of you
any of you
all absolved
ia ao ao
i bless thee
i bless thee
i …. i’ll see you later..
i bless thee
ok
now for something completely different

ah thats better

!

you see my fine and tender fiendss
there are always side effects to every n any thing
you drive a car
you have accidents, brake-downs
fossil fuel is going thru the roof
you have a garden then
oh you got weeds n pests n ants n crabgrass
you see
have you self a childe or 5
you get attitude you get headaches you get attached
get a band
you get arguments
you get people leaving
you get disappointments
you get disunity
you get a career in show biz
you get bad reviews
you get commisioned
you get olde…
so ok
you gotta accept the good with the bad
so one day in nov 2005
russell kilbey says
you should right a blog
me:u huh
a few days later rk says really you should write a blog
me: never ‘erd ovvit
so one day i’m reading my emails
and bless my brothers little cotton sox
but its all set up for me
all i have to do is click
bang
i was off
my first few bloggs were bloody rubbish
it hadnt dawned on me what a blog could be
but gradually we pick up shape n form
i become the time being inexorably
i write a few embarrassing puerile pathetic blogs
i write a few fucking magnificent ones too
proving i am he who am the only one
and a lot that are some good some bad
along the way it starts to occur to me
all the implications of this thing
immediately we had the old blown mystery syndrome
people didnt wanna know all that stuff about me
ok
they switched off
some people enjoyed hearing about the woofle et al
so it was ok
i experimented with honesty and personal admissions
the damn thing became my online diary
and i gave myself permission to do or say anything
however my fucking wandering moods took me
this resulted in a few ‘orrrible rants
that disgusted me as much as you:
i actually deleted one whole blog
such was is its vilenesss
yes i’d written something half drunk n very tired
in a cramped and unpleasant room
i vented forth a load of bile
that horrified me next morning
other times natch
ive knocked something off
and then next day
ive realised
hey that was pretty good
anyway
blah blah blah
we pick up some syncho-phants
we pick up some weirdos
we have a big schism over the meat thing
and a load of self righteous ninnies depart
but you know what
i never shoulda told em what to eat
fuck it all
i’m a almost vegan
i will nae ever eat meat
but if you or you pals want to
go a fucking head
i’m a vegan cos of me
cos i reckon its the smart thing to do
a lovely (real) buddhist lady from burma said to me
only be concerned about your own behaviour
dont ever worry about anyone elses sins
just concentrate on your own failings
if only everyone could do this
think how happy our world would be…
i made a mistake
i prozzle a tized to ya
do what you like
yeah thats how i feel now
i am a selfish vegan mofo
doing the right thing for the wrong reason
ok?
another thing you gotta admit
is although theres been some outrageously egotistical tripe
theres been some heartfelt self reproach too
i aint a saint
or buddha
or even buddhist
i aint a paragon of virtue
jesus i reckon i made it clear
i aint anything really
i dont advocate any thing all that much
i’m just a bumbling stumbling bloke
who happens to have written some songs
and the people who like his songs
read his blogs
if i’m standing at a water fountain
for example
and a dog (or a child)
(or an old woman)
(or a squirrel)
(or a rugby union player)
runs up and licks my face
and slurps all over the place
i’ll tell ya about it
how diz-gusted i am
and i make no bones about it
if a fucking cock roach or rat
or mynah bird
or burgler
or snake
comes in my house
i will resort to extreme measures if necessary
who wouldnt?
you see just coz i reckon the meat industry
is akin to concentration camps
and is an unhealthy immoral blight on “civilization”
it wont stop me donging you with my hammer
if you try n come in my place uninvited like a clown…
if youre a little birdy
wants to fly in my house
and (this gets some readers excited..!)
poo poo poo
then you may get your neck wrung
if youre a little doggy
having a quiet poo poo poo
in my front garden
and your owner thinks no ones looking
beware!
i am an excellent shot with a stone
i throw hard too
and if all else fails
i have been known to redeliver dog poo
express in the owners letterbox (regardless of yer zip code)
if you try to grab my kids on the beach for a photo
you may go home wearing yer camera…
yes you see
i dont believe in huge demoralising wars
but i believe in sensible solutions to small problems
i dont interfere with others
and i expect em not to interfere with me
here are my shortcomings again
old
ugly
selfish
violent
rude
greedy
envious
washed up
there thats outta the way
dont need to bring it up again
cos i just did
so
where all this is leading is…
look i dont wanna hurt anyones feelings but
we need a decent wag
really we do
and i’m officially offering a decent wag
part of the swag
look
i’m sorry to the wag that we got now
look
you were funny once rememember…
(can someone remind me…?!)
gee wag
i dont know how to tell you this but…
its just that things being what they are..
downsizing…
pressures from japanese investors
corporate decisions outta my hands
i’m sorry wag but…
im afraid i’m letting you go
yes
you can make some waggish remarks
until next monday
when you can clear out your desk
take your axe-grinder with you please
pack up all your funny one-liners
oh and please remember to take all those hilarious names
you used to make up too..
i know its a bit of a sad occasion
but really old bean
you havent been making me laugh much
laugh?
i would even accept a wry smile
but alas my faithful but dull wag
you are being retrenched
i hear bobo and the hedge are looking for a wag on their blog
i believe michael stripe may need a wag (or was that a wig?)
i believe gene simmons is interested in having a guest tongue wag occasionally
i think you could easily get a job wagging
on one of those blogs that no one reads
but …
well…
look
cant ya see i’m starting to do kinda well here
i’m frickin ratin’ in the top thirty of personal blogs
of all the malarkers writin’ their tripe each day
in this whole wide world
i…me…is getting enough readers
to hoist me up into the top thirty
i even hit fuckin’ thirteen the other day
and thats my little lucky number
of course i cant compete with some of the other bloggers
above me on yonder charts
the smacked bottom girl
the adventures of the naked gay boy in ny (not one of my personal faves)
the tips n hints on computers n printers guy
the blogs in spanish n chinese
but all in all
i do ok
i gotta lotta silent readers
who never comment
i gotta gang of regulars
but they are the tip of the 800 reader iceberg
thats right
beyond
mission
veleska
davem et al
is a huge unknown continent of readers
some of whom subscribe generously
and confide their thoughts in private
people we will never know about
many of whom NEVER read the comments
still i say
mr wag
i’m sorry
i just cant afford to have a so so wag like you on anymore
the muse is on at me to sack your ass
muse : thats true
its just that
ricki maymi jokes aint that funny
you do em over n over
like an olde fishwife serving up the same dismal dinner
oh its ricki maymi jokes again….aw…
sorry wag
we’re wanting a little change from them for a while
cant you do anything err….funny
the problem is this:
are you a proper wag
or
are you an axegrinding loser
trying to bring your ex-idol down a peg or too
because…
youve got a very small …….opinion of yerself?
(shooting n stabbing in the dark here)
so i’m not turning the anons off yet
tho it doth seem to give you a feeling of triumph ere i do
but
i will let the readers decide
Q : do we need a new wag?
LET THE PEOPLE DELIVER THEIR VERDICT:
SO BE IT!

inside is nothing
outside is nothing
some kinda seamless trick
life..well what do you know
its got us all reeling
even the smart guys like you
they warned me
they all warned me
you warned me
you all warned me
should do that
shouldn’t do that
but i’m beyond all that
you have no idea
the sky is the limit
i ride along in vans with the players
i go backstage and sit in the empty quiet green room
i see the hydraulics that animate the shows
i look in mirrors where the famous faces have all fled
the mirror is blank
the lights in the rooms flicker ever so slightly
we have our modest lunch
some soup and bread
albert drinks some green wine
rama has a little sleep
neum and i go out the back
where the alibi river flows
through marshes and factories
eventually emptying into the thankless sea
neums practicing his lines and fiddling with his strings
he idly smokes and thinks out loud
a dreamy stream of conscienceless inklings
yeah i remember so n so he says
exhaling like a lazy gryphon in the sun
yeah he was at that show we did in the park
lovely guy lovely guy…what was ‘is name again…
oh i remember ….no no…it wasnt that…
but anyway (neum went on) oh thats right..
this theatre he went to….
whole place was run by ghosts..ha ha..
no i didnt believe ‘im neither…you wait n see ‘e said
you’ll bloody laugh on the otherside of yer face then…
neum scratched his blonde/grey head and stubbed out his smoke
you know what laddie…..?
he leant in close
i could smell his aromatic menthol and camphor lilt
this is the place
right here..?
tonight !
but theres no one here…yet…
oh yes said neum …theyre here
as the afternoon grew longer and the air grew colder
i began to see
neum touched my arm once gently
as we were unfurling the screen
and he beckoned me to look…look there
and…yes….i could see
at one moment a shadow
an indentation …like a damaged mirror
like everything around it became slightly bent
like a disturbance in the surface of reality
but then as i watched
for the briefest flash
there stood a woman dressed in dark clothes
i could see every detail of her face and hair
well i’ll be …neum muttered in the darkness
of the orchestra pit
where we were working
and i tried to stifle a shiver
the air smelt momentarily of ammonia and it was gone
rama appeared at our sides
no need for unease , gentlemen he said
in his usual business as usual fashion
just carry on preparing the show…
suddenly

i’m doing 2 yoga sessions a day now
i’m walking faster n picking up speed
i’m fighting time whose very nature is dissolution
glen bennie sends me a great new track
jeffrey cain sends me another new isidore track..fab!
these guys masters in their own way
a privilege to add words to their music
i dropped my paintings off to art groupie yessaday
look i missed that arty-cle in the paper about it, the smh
does anyone have a copy they can send to po box 7779?
i’ll send you a copy of every record i ever made n then some..
no..your reward will be in your heart…
thanks to jolly hordern for their safe arrival
hey ricki..didja know my painting of ya was in the paper?
a few people recognize me at the pool yessaday
after my heavy exposure in the printed rags
i had a half page pic of me on page 3 of one of austs biggest
everyone fuckin saying good morning n stuff
i cant tell if its coz they know me
or coz of the frigging newspaper
one guy who doesnt know me at all
said to me
“ooh i saw ya in the paper n said to my partner
ooooh i know him…!”
despite the fact
he did not know me at all
and if he did
he woulda known “who” i was
gee a pic in the paper gets people going
meanwhile eve n aurora couldnt give a tuppeny farthing
whether i’m on telly or the paper or a dvd or a cd
yeah sure…its you, dad
they wouldnt care if i’m playing the enormo dome
opening the imperialist games
or if i’m third on at the arse and racket in croydon
yes its their father and they lose focus
another people saying this n that
as i made my rounds
hey come on
i’m just a guy who happened to write the best song ha ha ha
the best australian song
in the last twenty years
does this mean my youthful arrogance in declaring myself
“the best songwriter in australia ” has actually come true
verified by the people themselves
just when my ego was under some control…this
to tell you the truth
it means very little when you realise that
drum roll
obscene fact about mal turnbull
he has a butler!
yes olde mal has his own jeeves
getting his slacks prepared
dealing with any troublemakers
and feeding mals doggies
(and presumably clearing up their you know what)
can you believe that any one has the sheer fucking gall to have a butler!?
that is real obscenity
right there
even if the butler wants to do it!
and the day australia has a bloke with a butler
for its pm
you just know that things have gone awry
in other news painkiller have added a sydney date 22 dec
same place as last time
can we get any better than we were ?
maybe…i reckon we will…
weve got an album of new stuff to work on
if we can get some into the show…
looking forward to the 2 shows with m kennedy
easy songs to sing
easy man to work with
(and there in lies the moral…)
anyway
its a warm rainy morning in bondi
aurora is playing the flute in a school concert
shes nervous and doesnt understand why she feels queasy
that queasiness is part of performance
then you gotta get out there and translate it into energy
uh huh
thats how this olde fella does it
butlerless
no dog poo if you please
no mynah birds in my house neither
i never said i was buddha
i’m a almost vegan for my own sake
yes thats right
for the selfish reason that i wanna be healthier longer
and still rockin’ like a mother at 54
with slim long legs
and fetching jawline
so it aint got nothin’ to do with anything else
ok
thats all just a side effect to me
so baloney!
do whatever you want
see if i care
but the truth remains
and whoevers fault it is
and whatever can or cant be done about it..
as a civilized man i am repulsed by the dogshit on our streets
i would gladly end it
the people in the future will not tolerate it
it is not comparable to anything else
it is a health hazard
it is fucking disgusting
i hate it
so there

maybe you see me
maybe you dont
maybe you’ll love me
maybe you wont

i am the being
i am the being
time being what it is
all things to all men
a mans man
a ladies man
an animals man
a gods man
a gentle man
worlds forgotten man
the diary of a certain mr kilbey
read all about it
hes in the papers
hes on the telly
hes in the astral
hes tripping over in the causal
the light in his retina is blinding
my interior life which i will willingly share
my exterior lives
the actor
the clown
the sage
the bastard
the failure
the human
the building anticipation
as it all heats up
father is child to the river
the morning sings in a real voice of birds
the black stuff oozing from the mud
a little bridge in the sun
i will burn it later
what does it mean?
should things mean anything?
if they dont then why bother?
the devil even yawns
kilbeys at his tricks again
cooks up some pairs
gary comes over
brought me a plant
we eat our pears
gary says painkiller gig “best in life”
wow if our first gig was that good then…
are you sure gary?
gary : yes
ok
after pears
me n eve n scarlet go to beach
aurora wants time away from eve
eve has a serious energy surplus
and needs to let off much steam
aurora sometimes likes to be quiet
and enter her own world which is tantalizingly close…
aurora is such a dreamy childe…
and there that world is…she can see it now …but..
its no good
eve cant leave her alone
EVE ! LEAVE ME ALONE….! X 500
so i take the 2 crazy ones to the beach
the ones with the curly hair
their hair is curly coz it represents all their wayward energy
down at the beach
eve gets bored with swimming by herself
(normally having an inbuilt little friend)
and she and scarlet settle down
to the serious job of annoying each other
eves digging holes
scarlet collapses em
eve goes crazy
me warning eve
eve digs another hole
scarlet collapses it
but gets her leg stuck in it
eve starts burying her leg more
scarlet screaming and giggling
me yelling cut it out
eve guffawing
baby hysterically screaming
me yelling
eve digging
baby wriggling
baby escapes and runs away
off goes eve
tapping the babys heels and tripping her
but the baby gives as good as she gets
mercilessly jumping on eves thigh when she slides over
like a wrestling villain
scarlet comes down on eves fleshy thigh
letting her not inconsiderable bulk all focus down
through her heel
and then
ooooooopphhh!!
eve grunts like a t rex in shock and pain
before she can act
the woofle comes down on it again
in the same spot
eve struggles to her feet
shes enraged now
but the swift little woofle is away
eve tracks her down
and brings her to the sand
with a tackle fatty vauntin might have questioned
then eves main problem is how to exact vengeance
while i watch on very closely
you see i was once eve
and scarlet was russell
so i know all the tricks
they chase each other through the rows of sunbathers
kicking sand in their faces as they whizz by
eventually i have all the angry people looking at me
eve n scarlets romp finally degenerates into sand throwing
at which point an interventionist daddy wades in
separating and cautioning the contestants
they remain separate for two minutes
before the whole shebang kicks off again
when the woofle jumps on top of eves diggings
ooh la la
instant replay
meanwhile i go in and have a swim
i do that thing where it suddenly gets deeper
n you jar yer back
then cos i was all tensed up coz of the cold
it got worse
i caught a few waves miserably
but i took it personally
the misbehaving kids
the jarred back
the cold water
my slight case of sunburn
hey today is russells birthday
its monday
its another new leaf
its spring
its all i ever wanted
so
have a ball
alright?

the ‘umble servant of yer majesties
steven john kilbey
here i am
bright as a button
sunday morning
see…?
i even work on sundays
just for your esteemed pleasure
no job too big or too small for the time being
painting singing writing
knocking out the best songs in twenty years
i mean the people have spoken
decisively
i wake up on sunday morning
feeling myself floating in a warm sea of kudos
and goodwill
hoping you all out there
appreciate how hard it was to write that best song
ah but theres the rub…..
theres the moral…
no
it was easy
it took no time at all
like buying a lottery ticket
or boarding a doomed plane
or fertilizing an egg
or shooting a barn
fate deals the cards
everything aligns
you come to a fork
either way : everything will change after this
sometimes i feel like i’m so close to working it all out
othertimes i’m sucked back into the bickering humdrum
i do feel like that
as writer of this best song
i should get the rust cut out of tibor free
and my front 2 teeth are chipped n need crowning
and a few other lurks n perks i could use too
look…its ludicrous
i should be made the national songwriter laureate
i should be stuck on some big stipend
and moved into a stately house
and i’d write songs for australia all day
(or any other country..
…if theres one interested reading this)
what do you want me to do…?
i could breeze around parlyment
knocking out pomes n paintings of the senators
i’d be an asset to any govvyment
i’d make everyone so habby….!
really it is a crime tho
look i’m too modest to do it for myself
or i’d go n tell ’em to sort me out proper
its a national disgrace
that the writer of the best song
should have weak water pressure in his shower
or little cockroaches in his keyboards
or neighbours waking him up from his deep sleep
the govt should recognize me now
before its too embarrassing for everyone involved
give me the dough and the luxurious gaff
put my kids in grammar school or something
give me an office staff and a driver
plus a license to kill
plus access to secret information…of course, why not..?
and anything else i feel i may bloody well want
revenge on some kids who picked on me at school
ha ha
imagine trackin’ em down
i’d turn up at their work with 2 govt thugs
hey knucklehead….
remember the time you stuck an ice cream
down the back of my shirt…?
and then i’d have my thugs
plaster the clown in devils food cake…
because
you just dont go around treating the writers of best songs that way
you show a little politesse
i know you know this already my fiends
but
oh god they’ll miss me when i’m gone
the last of the best
the cleanest star they ever had…
look australia is not drowning in renaissance men
its a cryin’ shame i gotta point it out to ’em
but theyre a bit thick , over here sometimes
they cant see which way up the breads got its non dairy spread
anywhere else would have snapped me up by now
given me a position or a title
a consultancy
imagine
youre some “straight” man
you come to see me for advice
advice in bohemiamness and all things hippy
i could burn you a popul vuh cd
or read you something from mervyn peake
or roll you a number
sit you down
and direct inject 80 minutes of pure painkiller
in to your numb skull
because my bass guitar cures the blues at 20 paces
(does anyone reading this ever think i’m a little self-obsessed?)
i could scuff up yer shoes
and spill paint on yer sleeves
i could run you through the greek roman norse and hindu pantheons
or explain the difference
between steve peregrine took n mickey finn
i could show you a yoga pose i found helpful with….*
*(insert your malady du jour here)
or just….
summer usurped spring here yessaday
it was too hot
and i felt like a strange old stranger in a real strange land
every now an then i realise
i’m a northern hemi type
marooned down here
in this sun blasted place
in the afternoon seeking cool air
the fambley n i
fled to the cliff tops at watsons bay
where the mighty heads open up to the pacific
and sydneys magnificent harbour doth begin
eve kilbey running hither n thither doing cartwheels
shes hit the cartwheel stage just like elli n minna did
they were forever kicking me in los cojones
trying to do cartwheels in my old flat in sthlm
aurora more like me…no cartwheels for her
but evies like a bleeding acrobat
shes also running round screaming at the top of her lungs
she is so exuberant n full o’ energy
will you bloody well keep it down i say a hundred times
but she is indomitable
as usual as per sydney
dogs have fouled this beautiful park everywhere
youre standing there looking out to sea
on the very eastward edge of the land
a sheer drop of thousands of feet
you see seagulls wheeling below…..
and yet
the whole time you gotta watch out for…..yechhh!
sorry folks
i say
no doggies in the city
or
death penalty for uncleared up muck
cause i’m over it
we live in fucking paradise with dogs muck everywhere
you go to the nicest poshest most whatever suburb
and there it is
an outrage!
a truly disgusting blight on civilization
some harsh new penalties must be introduced
maybe when turnbull is pm
he can wade into the eastern suburbs dogs muck issue
maybe only he can truly take it on….
to add insult to injury
i am drinking from a water fountain
when a disgusting dog leaps into my face
licking at me and the water
i stand up and fix the fleabitten mongrels stupid owner
a steely reproving look
he merely says
you shoulda slapped him down mate…!
oh i see
it was my fucking fault
i should be having a drink of water
and slapping down a strange mutt
whose imbecile has let them run amok
i dont know bout where you live
but bondi cant afford anymore dogs
they even are going on the frickin’ boardwalk at the beach
the owners think its their right
for their dog to go and do it anywhere…!
hey look i got a rant going here
muse: and all yer rich dog loving subscribers switching off..
oh not so hasty there
oh look i love animals…honest
and small children
and old people
and the “straights”
and the ‘ippies
and the gay and happy people
and the football fans wherever they may roam
everybody
we take em all in
the time being will not refuse a soul
look
heres a green dream for little poochie