sit in the kitchen
cooking up a blog
maybe its a beauty
probably its a dog
seven planets
seven dwarves
seven seals
seven deadlies
the plato code
the bible code
the code of the road
song of the city song of the road
hip gnosis
the sufis
be a real man suffer them slings n arrows
prospero n miranda
agamemnon n elektra
the sphinx
garudasana
a bucket full of starfish
steven john kilbey
out of joyce bennett n leslie john kilbey
out of caroline davis and bill bennett
out of stephen kilbey and jesse bellette
beyond that is unknown
the rosy cross
golgotha place of skulls
oh columbus
oh america
oh lovely sweden n my distant identical twins
2 for the price of one
pushing sixty
old man look at my life im a lot like you are
hi fidelity
in fidelity
ulysses in transit lounge
my foolish boat still leaning
the lion lies down with the lamb on broadway
aslan sings the world awake
the leo sun god son of man
cracked actor crackling rosy crucifixion
spades are upside down black hearts
diamonds are forever n ever
clubs are noisy
the dizzy nymph jumps the quick brown panther
patient as decades fly by
i used to be a little boy so old in my shoes
gravity i have
gravitas i have not
still i’m sad
every child player must win a prize
empty handed paris on the battlements of troy
scarlet kilbey with her box of semi unprecious stones
strange child with strange proclivities
moving thru the ages appearing over n over
eve n aurora having a sleepover at some kids house
eve with her chestnut curls
aurora with her swollen ads
dutiful daughters
my ears ring on
i-sight fading
miracles are scarce tonight
no one calls
no one knocks
no one visits
the red bulb in my room
my bonsai tree that needed my love
ive lost my keys
my golden car
my freckled white skin
an inventory of my temporary flesh
my guitars all unplayed
my painting unfinished
my sentences peter out…
its cold but i cant feel it much
my neck aches holding up this heavy stupid head
i imagine my brains inside my skull
little messages running hither n thither
heres a compartment with my swedish
heres a compartment that remembers childhood
heres a tiny compartment that can do arithmetic
heres the bit that tells my heart when to beat
our hearts need our brains to know when to beat
autonomous processes continually upgraded
this f;lash of genius
this puddle of dullard
this pond of fondness
this lake of love
this stagnant swamp of envy
i wish i was going somewhere
thats the great thing about touring
youre always going somewhere
check in check out
a new bed everynight
checklist : keys, ipod, flip camera, headphones, passport, clean sox
vitamins, shampoo, toothbrush, a pair of undies, my sunglasses
my reading glasses, my novel, my sheet which tells me where to go
my sheet which tells me which room tim n peter n marty are in
a letter from a fan
a stick of frankincense
a tiny statue of buddha
small change
you go on stage
the audience cheers
you strum your guitar
you sing your voice
you dance about a bit
afterwards you lie in your silent room
you eat a piece of chocolate
you look in the mirror
you look old
you keep expecting to see an eighteen year old
but unsurprise you dont
i run out of steam
suddenly
and
i stop