The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

evie n i go to the icebergs
i run into a guy i owe 300 dollars and its embarassing
i shoulda fixed him up before its just laziness
i know i know he says as i fumble my apology
anytime anytime he says
then im sitting in the sauna when harry comes in
hi harry i mutter
oh i didnt recognize you sitting there booms harry
youre normally making a lot more noise for yourself…
yeah… thanks harry…
i do only 12 laps and run outta steam
evies in the pool and she waits as i get up her end
and she swims underneath me as i go over her
making me me fearful for a kick in the privates
oof! yep…there it is!
we get home and i make pears
then we decide its such a warm perfect day
we’ll go to the most lovely almost secret park in bondi
and we’ll play kubb
a swedish game of throwing batons at wooden pieces…
did i ever tell ya that one day every now n then
these black ants have their own wedding/orgy/mass suicide
well yes
you see
if you think your sexlife is underpar
then grok this
there is only one chick in the whole colony
uh huh the queen herself
so if youre a horny ant then shes the only lady in town
gee how does that work timebeing i hear you ask
its not as bad as you think
cos most of the cats in the colony are neuter
thats correct…neither here nor there
they dont have sex
theyre the workers n the soldiers
there are however some males
ooh look they have wings too
on this one special day
the queen who can fly too
she flings herself naked through the sky
her majesty looking to get laid
the males
those prince consorts
hundreds of em
imagine the conversation between 2 male ants:
hey bill …exciting isnt?
what reg…flying with the queen n stuff?
yeah bill..of course
you know shes only gonna mate with one of us reg?
yeah…i s’pose so…
well look around mate these bleeding thousands of us
yeah youre right bill…nevermind…what you doing after?
after? after reg? there is no fucking after…!
what you mean bill…no after..ha ha (laughs nervously)
reg dont you know….we’re all gonna die today..matey or no matey..
glum silence
*
yes the males all perish
none return to the nest
not even he who got lucky with her maj
anyway all the ants have come out from underground
and theyre a little excited to say the least
its like airforce day and empire day and a sexy tragedy
all in one hit
scarlet kilbey is standing among them
in one black uprush they ascend up her legs
in her sox
in her undies
nipping her white baby groin
biting her pink soft chubby legs
scarlet kilbey goes ballistic
screaming and dancing a weird ants in my pants dance
the game is over before its begun
we think we got em all off
and she starts wailing again
and we find another little bugger biting her for all its worth
the doodles play kubb while we see to scarlet
eves much better than aurora
so shes all mouthy and showing off
while aurora keeps flouncing off in a huff
everybodies going for it
so much for a quiet game
eventually me n nk get to play
(i won resoundingly)
and i became just like eve… all cocky
sigh
sigh
i drive up to blue mountains at 4
in my old falcon, tibor
we drive up into the mountains alone
much roadwork
much police
much argy bargy
i suddenly realise i need a ye olde wee wee
and i drive off main drag into the forest and get lost somehow
i have to retrace my steps out after much panic
i get to katoomba
which i dont particularly care for that much
find the carrington
a huge old hotel where queen vickie once had a bath
(or something)
the people having the wedding are very nice
piercings and tattoos abound
they are all mid thirties
the p.a. isnt very good
there is no stage
i just stand there near a table singing
i start with providence
its all crackling distorted n feeble
this eventually is rectified
while i play n sing
people talk n laugh
kids run around
dinner gets served
(yuck! its bloody steak or something!)
however
the bride n groom and a few of the guests
really love my music so i close my eyes n think of england
i do “let it be me” and a bunch of oldies cheer
i quite enjoy myself even under these far from perfect conditions
daniel is a great groom and longtime fan
he and quite a few others tell me
they grew up listening to me
its nice
im a little shy i guess but these folks are real nice
i am saddened to learn daniels mother died 2 weeks before wedding
they serve me a vegan meal
we do thought that i was over you with daniel singing in mike w/ me
i do milky way for bridal waltz
a good time was had by all
i finish up
i get paid
long boring drive home
listening to some church jams n marvelling
25 minute pieces of music
like entire sides of prog rock albums never released
i almost drift off to sleep a few times
but luckily was jolted back to awareness by some force
come home just after midnite
my wife in the darkness waiting patiently for me
mmmm
goodnight to all

feeling troubled and anxious myself
something not feeling right
worried about money
worried about the future
my ears ring
my teeth in bad shape
winter comes and everything seems a struggle
a million things to do
falling behind further and further
cannot keep up or hope to keep up with it all
red tape to go through
forms to fill in
appointments to keep
look in the mirror…getting old
(you are old!)
falling behind and slacking off with my disciplines
the bad habits and vices dominate
tonight i’m playing at someones wedding
its making me nervous too
i dont want to cock this gig up….
but i imagine that i could
yeah…playing at a wedding…the wedding singer
ha ha
ive done the parties here comes the weddings
actually the truth is i walk away with more money
from these types of gigs
than when i do the blah blah blah lounge in town
so…
i’m all confused
plus
i realise i’m still not “working” working, right?
i should be happy, i guess
but i always wanted more than i ever got
and i s’pose i’m like humanity in that way
anyhow seeing this IS my blog
i can confide that i always thought
something or someone would come along
recognize my “talent”
and somehow i could recover from the heroin days
when i lost everything i had
but
as time goes on n on
i cant see it ever happening
and i’ve become a bit of a jack of all trades
which is alright
in itself
but im not feeling real confident right now
in any way at all
any small wave coming along could sink the ship in fact
i know you all got the same worries as me
and none of this is anything new
nor can i come up with anything sunny today
even tho it is actually sunny outside in sydney
i feel cold broke and on the outside looking in
the inevitable moves in closer
and dreams recede
petty ambitions
petty obstructions
i see complete imbeciles living it large
and im filled with caustic envy and jealousy
i see injustice and evil and hopelessness
and im filled with impotent useless rage
i see this world and i feel nothing ever changes
just like me in microcosm
plagueing myself with the same old stuff
nothing much on the horizon
except more argy-bargy
more wrangling n jostling
more ducking n fuckin’ weaving
this is how it is….
today….
yet we are changeable creatures
there is always hope….we hope
anyhow if you got kids you cant give up
which makes things even harder
you gotta try n put a good face on it
you gotta do your best
and you gotta do whatever you can
you do everything for the children
who grow up move out
and then it all starts all over for them
we are born into red tape and argy-bargy
we get sent to school for an “education”
which really means
programmed to fit into the system
the pre-existing system of civilization
the other beasts dont work so hard as us
they just live life in the moment
yeah
most of em got food n shelter and sex
the things that motivate humans…
but they dont sit in offices to get it
they dont drive trucks for thousands of miles
or dig ditches everyday
or lug boxes or make deliveries
or down mines in the dark
or up some pole fiddling with the wires
consider the dolphins who spend only 10 % of their time
catching fishies
the rest of the time they play and swim and presumably have “fun”
my old man worked 6 days a week his whole life
and he had his “fun” on sunday afternoon..if he had any energy
i used to think we humans had it made
but now im not so sure…
anyway
nothing you can really do about it
even if you recognize it
but….
couldnt it have been more than this?
im not complaining really
i got it easy…i know i know
its just….

i dont believe in war
today is the day australians and new zealanders
celebrate/mourn/remember our fallen countrymen
when i was growing up we were told they were our glorious dead
we were encouraged to believe that war was necessary part of life
and that if the empire called
we should give our lives gladly
im sorry
i never swallowed this propaganda
there is a park near here..the kids play there sometimes
a little monument to the young men
whose lives came to an inglorious end in turkey or europe
during WW1
there is an unusual name mckellar or something
and there are 5 or 6 of them there
some woman lost her father and her brothers and her sons
one after another mown down in some foreign mud somewhere…
can any one here tell me why those MILLIONS of young men died?
for the empire?
for the glory?
for the adventure?
to stop the bloody hun?
to me it seems an incredible inexplicable tragedy
that great war oh what a great war we’re having…
barbed wire
mustard gas
machine guns
dysentry
mud
blood
guts
decay
pain and screaming
firing squads for deserters we now realise were shell-shocked
rah rah rah!
good old lord kitchener and his generals….tally ho
we’ll give em what for eh boys?
keep dodging those bullets for another 4 years
youll get a little medal and maybe a pension
im sorry
i dont believe in war
miserymaker heartbreaker lovetaker
gallipoli, vietnam, crimea, korea
they keep selling us this lie
that war can solve things
that war is the only way
that its manly that its our duty
those young men who lost their lives
all of them
yes they were brave
yes they were courageous
yes they did their duty and made the ultimate sacrifice
but what good did it do?
we fought n fought for a few muddy miles in france
my grandfathers too
it was a lie
that they needed to die
we lied
the enemy lied
the kings horses n men lied
it was gruesome and pointless
in the way we attempt to glorify these dead soldiers
is contained the implication
that to die in some useless war is a worthy end
one can aspire to it…
so next time someone needs some dirtywork done
there will be more young men
to fling against the enemy
while the unscrupulous belligerent cowards
sit safe at home
unconcerned for the lady in bondi who lost every male member
of her family
wanna go to iraq?
saddams got the wmds i hear…
ok all aboard lets go!
cmon dont be slow
no need to wonder why
whoopee
we’re all gonna die!

renaissance man scoops every award!
(warning: this a fantasy, it may contain jokes!)
uh huh
thats right!
steve kilbeys amazing new talk show “renaissance man”
has won every major award in aust television
by harvey farbnuckle ent. reporter sydney morning heresy

steve kilbey was a happy man last night
as he walked away with five gold loogies
his fabulous new abc tv show renaissance man
winning every (in)conceivable prize at the 08 awards night
kilbey resplendent in a flannelette shirt and kmart trackpants
was cheered by his piers
as he peered out and peeked (and peaked ) (maybe piqued)
holding aloft his pangolin statuette
he pledged more bohemian antics for the next seasons blockbluster
tv mogul and tycoon sir roger swindlin’-hogg said:
kilbey is a breath of fresh air in an industry full of plastic lookalike fools
im tired of teethy game-hosts, over earnest female journos
and the boring non-entities like rover or over-the-hills
kilbey is the real thing
writes his own jokes
is as conversant on sumerian sexual customs or incan paper
as he is on pub rock or the footy
he sings he dances he can talk talk talk
hes debonair and everyman at once
a real wit
a real scholar
a real zany crazy baudelaire quoting juggernaut of a tv host…”
amazing special guests: dante, quetzalcoatl, dylan, sam sejavka
the wiggles(who performed excerpts from madame butterfly)
george w bush (who did a duet with kilbey on travel by thought)
tom cruise who told of his great love for remindlessness
and was joined by brad pitt n george clue-knee for an
emotional version of my birthday the moon festival
(with cruise on electric sitar, pitt on vocoder)
ed kuepper was a surprise guest too
chuckling his way through a medley of saints songs
and then joining kyle hand-shandyland
for an emotional tearfilled under the milky way (tonight)
during which both men declared their unswerving belief in kilbey
bring on those sixteenths sobbed the ecstatic brizzie ex-punk
while wollongongs own chubby ordinary yobbo made good kyle said
“kilbey must be convulsive…or not at all!”
the abcs ceo lord edward st. bill was delighted
calling kilbey “a tv phenonomen” and “a diamond geezer”
and promising more funds to be diverted to kilbeys vision
“quite frankly who gives a fuck about sport and news shows
when you got something as scintillating as “renaissance man” “
said the chief
“who cares who won the boring old rugby n election anyway?”
kilbey was celebrating at the g.e.microwave arena
“with a few thousand close friends”
and is reported to be ebullient about his win
“i can hock each of these babies for 500 bucks each” he said
holding a statuette up
as he pigged out on vegan cuisine and sloshed down berry v with jaeger
all 14 of his daughters were there
except petunia
who is studying african bagpipes at yale
kilbey had the final word
“yeah…but my feet and my nose are still FUCKING FREEZING!”

im giving myself a seven
im giving myself a seven for my singing n joking n
personalitying
its weird these tv shows
i am able (ironically) to converse in their lingos
but i’ll never be a believer
yet there i was in the green room
sipping my jaeger n getting nervous
led down behind a curtain
they guess my name
im out
wow
the band starts to play my song
sing sing sing
cant hear voice as well as i want to
but you gotta play on
meet hostess whos (supposed) to be dizzy n mouthy
answer some questions…cant remember em now
laughy laughy laughy
then at the end
(my team won) (go the killer!) (go mangey panther!)
i do my “duet” with female guest
its ok we do it ok
suddenly its over!
that was it …..my assault on showbiz
everybody said i was good
my brother n daughters said good
i ended up at aftershowparty
eating a bowl of minestrone
talking to someone
who didnt realise i was joking
i was saying i wanted my own tv show
called renaissance man
that it would be me in a lonely library
outside a storm lashes the window with rain
a fire burns in the hearth
a golden retriever sits at my feet
a rolled up newspaper in its mouth
i swing round in my chair
dressed in a smoking jacket n cravat
i cradle a pipe in one hand
(sks special smoking blend)
i turn to the camera
i raise an eyebrow
and in my best british upper class accent
(and believe me…i do a jolly good one!)
i say
good eeevening
and welcome to “renaissance man”
the ninny still not realising their leg was being pulled was saying
fuck off now ya talking in an english accent!
oh dear…i really waste my time trying to amuse some people
what else will you talk about ? said the ninny
my world.. i say with a mock expansive gesture
oh yeah whatchya gonna tell my 14 year old then? they said
it wont be for 14 year olds i say…and sighing
such were my attempts at schmoozing..
i chatted briefly with em all
i believe my cheques in the mail
“smaller than you thought too” quips a camera guy
the band thought it was good as well
one of the best shows a bandmember says
hooray for mr showbiz
whooda thunk it
stevie kilbey that olde song n danceman
that quipping quoting singing laughing genie-arse
that avuncular skipping yoga-doing knucklehead
that vague n semi-vegan non-vapid rapid fire old trooper
anyway sit in hotelroom
with minna n john sleeping on in here
at least my kids saw me being a “star” for a minute
at midnight i get in lift
3 people in there
looking at me
they burst out laughing
great show!!!
can we get a picture with ya?
ok
its started…the recognition
next the paparazzi…?
the botox?
the toupe?
the corsets?
yeah..
bring it on!

tonite
despite whatever i said before
im doing the tv show
why?
why not
with my new “one size fits all” persona
my startlingly youthful pizazz for an old geezer
(yoga n veganism)
with humour back on the agenda
with reintroducing myself
as avuncular smart dashing venerable idiot
refugee from the rocknroll wars
trippy stupid eccentric bopping fool
or whatever
a washed up ninny hoping for exposure
who can pinpoint the myriad causes that precipitate an event?
see
im fuckin’ art-ic-u-late too baby
now dont ya forget aint too many articulate rockers
maybe im too fuckin articulate for my own good
cos im not the dumb savage type at all
but perhaps need more of that for balance
anyway
i went to rehearsal
everybodies lovely
everybodies relaxed
the band are very nice
actually theyre very good
the cream i mutter as i greet them
one guy oscillates between guitar n keys so easily
like speaking two languages at once
he sits there nursing the guitar and playing the keys
back n forth in one song
the bass n drums are immaculate in precision n professionalism
a quality i used to despise
but now i start to appreciate it
(DUH!)
theyre friendly geezers
we do my song
they do it nicely authentically
we run thru duet with the female guest
which she chose
a song of grants
not my first choice
but hey im easy going and it sounded ok
so im happy
everybody from tv show is very nice
i know it would be a better read if i was throwing a tanty
but i didnt
rehearsal was smooth sailing
im a vintage performer now
my origins are lost in the mists of time
i come on n do this 27 year old song
its just like the trees outside the window
there he is
some old white bearded fella
still quite trim despite the years
hes on the quiz show
hes singing his song
hes genial n relaxed n approachable
like any 53 year old should be
i write these words for myself
trying to understand who i am
what i do
and
how i can do it better
ive blown my mystique i know
years ago
in so many ways
i am now operating mystiqueless
unless you think my formidable abilities
is mystique in itself
or even just a silly sod
having ‘imself on
a temporary blip
nothing special
still anxious to do a good job though
still wanna sing n be funny n make em want more
isnt that what im sposed to do?
i believe i can do any showbiz thing now
act
sing
entertain
magic tricks
diving off bridges
disappearing into thin air
im gonna be alright
i handle all terrain now
ive just done an hour of yoga n chi gong
im gonna go for walky
im gonna meet my daughters who are down here
at 730 i’ll hit that stage
dazzlingly suave groovy rococco urbane mishmash of coolness
belting out the hits
and making the people chuckle
is that as noble an ambition as transcendence thru art?
maybe not….
but it is an exercise
in doing what you do do well
working within a given framework
and getting the most out
while putting the most in
and making it look easy
easy?
right on!

the truth is
what we think of as the truth does not exist
the truth is all our truths are different
the world is a song
a million ways in
a million ways out
we have been raised to look for the definite
it does not exist
it is in flux
i search and search
sometimes like yesterday
on a windswept cliff
the wind howled in glee
misty rain droplets
the dark blue sea groping the land
an impatient ocean trying to get further in
and the clouds redefine grey into a thousand greys
rising and falling in the sky
you look at this and the answer is on the tip of your…..
the answer?
the answer??
there is no answer
each answer would lead to at least ten more questions anyway
it would take all our life to grasp even the smallest fact in totality
nonetheless certain tantalising keys seem to dangle
keys to understanding…..
keys to art
keys to success
keys to boogie woogie piano
whatever key you want
suddenly you realise….
ah! so this is…..
as things fall into place
and you move into finer realms
as you progress
your pride becomes heavier
and drags you down
you glimpsed the seven thousand lands of paradise
now your arrogance pins you to the ground
you begin to see
that not concentration..as you thought…
but its opposite
detachment
or rather
detachment within concentration
just like in yoga
when you push your limbs to maintain an asana
but your face n mind remain calm and peaceful
you have to be both things at once
you have to be able to believe the impossible
or scorn the obvious
could it be its all true
could it be its all false
why do sad songs make us happy
why do opposites attract…shouldnt likes attract?
a fine line between love n hate but arent they opposites?
occult advice for astral travel:
remain awake as you fall asleep!
that could take many lifetimes to master
you cant apply western force to it
yet one can see the possibilities flowering
behind the apparent conundrum
somewhere in nature
there are loopholes in her logic
which once manipulated could….
imagine if it was all tangential to what you thought
imagine if the givens were taken
look
i always thought there would be some big explosion of light
but the battle is not fought there
nor is the battle fought at all but only with surrender
can you defeat a temptation by indulging in it
can you love your enemies to death
can you remain alert in deep contemplation
can you traverse levels of your reality effortlessly
think without thinking
your mind…can it switch itself off
can you serve or save yourself
?
the schism between “their” realities
and mine
ever widens
a credibility gap they used to call it
getting harder to believe it
getting harder to swallow ..i need more sugar with it
the more i hide from it
the more exposure i need
everything is and contains its own opposite
life is a multitude of dilemmas
as you think you solve one
others pop out of alignment
theres no end in sight
no respite
it must continue it seems
warm n cosy moments are illusions
so too the hysterical and excruciating
all disappearing like white lines on a highway
stretch out and then gone
gone man gone
like elvis n jimbo n all them other dead’uns
gone into the distant distance
amen

the light of a byegone afternoon
yeah i recognize it
everything yellowish white
everything curving around itself
the writhing vegetation
the branches in the trees rub against each other
the trees are eroticised
and they touch each others bark lewdly
nature succumbs to love
palm trees shaking and nodding
gardenias move off their faces in joy
clouds manifest human-like shapes
and fuck in the sky
gently raining down
the colours all have numbers and voices
bass purple 9
contralto red 33
bees arrive
precise and identical
some of the cactii are in juicy bloom
suggestive pink fleshy protusions
how did i arrive here?
through the mirror
which was soft and hazy
like cotton wool
or a slight gentle resistance
jim sitting in his otherworld
jim with his huge blue beard
jim with the swirling changing hair
jim under some other sun
sitting thinking
ice cold beer and mexican weed
writing some poetry in his book
we are flames…
morrison writes
…and we burn eternally inside cold white cages
the system w/ its spears
girls come and stay intent on sleep
girls from nevada and utah and sword
little honey melts in my car
i pull up outside the blue sky motel
her luggage w/snakegun
the cops drift by in their movietone dream
tasting moms apple pie and bombe alaska
later in the pool in the Kool night
as she sinks almost lifeless
sharks circle w/ one thousand ideas
her fingers touch their weeping eyes as they devour her
softly monsters she seems to say
and as i turn the key in the door of room 13
unlocking a past
your father appears in his flannel suit
making polite conversation as
i sit on the bed watching you shower
out there …l.a..pulses with a sick unaffordable force
i know you
says your father w/ his soft voice….

what do you think? jimbo asks me
as i read over his shoulder in the garden
and his technicolor hair swirls a day-glo vortex
yeah its great i guess
i hear myself say
adding some lilac to his hair
that flows away like a rippling wave
under the eddies and currents of his wild hippy poet hair…
the air charges in full of purple and orange light
electricity crackles and discharges
the garden is in a frenzy
the clouds turn big and black as they rut above
thunderclaps
jim sits there
his hair blowing wildly
his black jacket with the collar flap
his black t shirt against his paleskin
he turns and stares at the rain and wind
and he looks like a wild elvis or elijah
i try to freeze the picture
and the mirror cracks deep
shards of the sky w/blood
blue and red
no reflection

horrible dreams and aches pursue me still
things eating (at) me
things put off till tomorrow
well now tomorrow was months ago
i walk through the darkened house
into my room where i type my rants
one of the greek girls downstairs is dating a real “straight”
his lovely black gleaming car is parked downstairs
his moon roof has been left undone
and oh dear ….its raining…
possessed by this sight
i stand like a gleeful moron
watching the rain going in his nice car
an angel on my right shoulder says
steven go down and tell them!
the devil on the left says
oh ha ha ha ha!!
the devil on the left shoulder also says to the angel
ma’am …youre wasting your breath today…he’s mine
the rain picks up a little
the killer smiles
i become the killer
the killer smiles again or scowls
both his desks are piled 4 inches high with stuff
like an old alchemist all confused
mixing up the wrong mixtures
transmuting gold into lead
scrying for tiny daemons
the killer is doing a painting of jim morrison
there he sits on my paper
iridescent metallic blue green white flames flare from his head
his hair is a swirling sea of gold silver and bright colours
his face is one tone bluey pink with a kind of photo realism
his beard is blue a solid mass of blue but it needs doing more
jimbo jimbo jimbo…..ah
yeah i mean great i guess
i mean i dunno
girl leaves downstairs
uh oh the other girls boyfriend has parked very close
in his big black fast car
she..oh..the cars are all dirty and wet
yet she is forced to squeeze herself between them to gain access
she gets her door open
just
then she flops down into seat sideways
she sits there and looks up
she sees the roof is open about 6 inches
she sits there a bit longer brushing at water
then suddenly
she feels her wet bum
and jumps out of the car but slowly
cos its a tight fit
oh distress oh pity
the stupid little devil laughs himself silly
the angel asks
but what about the yoga
but what about the sage..
what about her wet arse sniggers the devil again
launching himself into coughs and splutters
the killer loses interest in this malarkey
back to the serious things whatever they are
financial monsters are slowly growing
picking up their inevitable interest
their fine print and fines
they give and then they take
bamboozling me in sticky debt
broke like an old string
hammers and tax
crunch must be coming
yes yes
tomorrow tomorrow
and all the rest too
today however
i am attending a college in the eastern subs
where i will be talking about songwriting for one hour
and earning 110 dollars
not exactly a fortune
but not to be sneezed at neither
i hope its better than some of my other forays in education
lets face it i’m not the teacher type
im all over the place
and im talking in terms
yer average aussie punter
doing time at an art college
so he can still get the dole
he just doesnt understand what im talking about….
plus
would a real songwriter
go to songwriting school?
my use of any lessons or tips
ive ever had or gleaned
were to augment my own self instruction
i taught myself to write n play n sing n paint n blogge
and it really shows… chuckles the devil on my shoulder
i overhear a coversation in the kitchen
and i poke my head round the door
mum can i read you a story? asks eve
brandishing a book about animals
its called the lion she says
dad wont like it says aurora
why not ?says mum
its got meat in it she says
he doesnt mind lions eating meat do you? mum asks
i think all lions should eat tempeh ! i say
they like my jimbo picture
one of your best ever they all say
the drizzle still drizzles
yeah teacher teach us a songman
after that im gonna play bass on someones record
then im meeting a friend at a cafe in bondi
the future seems foreboding
sydney is enveloped in a rainy mist
i dont feel cosy or comfortable
i feel raw
waiting for the chop
on notice
under observation
bills wend their way
next week a tv show and a wedding
wedding made me offer i couldnt refuse
im a jack of all fucking trades now
does your hedge needing bustling
does your guitar need elocution lessons
want a voiceover on your wedding nite
(cos my dulcet tones n cool accent are way better than the grooms)
(go man go !says little devil)
would you consider a little ambiguity with your fries
howabout a dong over the head with a fender bass?
thatll make you see some sense
you nailed it says devil
you nailed it!

persecutions complex
grey drizzle dawn mounts and muzzles bondi beach
some tourists resort
to anything
between my shoulders..that old ache
the years
conflict
anger
holding it in
holding it back
i nuzzle sleep who recedes and recedes
half relieved to escape ultra vivid scenes on dreams screens
a non-believer
hammering at rats with my shoe
lost in a mansfield st wilderness of pain
a white fog of smack fizzles to black morning of fear
utterly alone in a cold and hurting house
no one comes
the minutes congeal into solid state time
each second is razor edged slicing me open
the cuts go deep into being
timecuts flay timebeing
no one knocks at my dooranymore
no one rings me but the bank asking for its moneyback
the goodtimes oh they seem so far behind
so longa go
all my lives living side by side
my scams gather round me
screaming at me
i can never outrun them
whining lies
the garden is cold and full of spiders
the empty cubby house with mouldy toys
those little birds flew the coop
rats in the roof scratch and scramble
me, im out of everything
cars drive by outside
sydney grinds into action
the world swirls by somehow out there but its unreachable
defeated on my feet
knocked out loaded
absorbing hit after hit
throw down the towel over and over
entropic necrotic
less serotonin than a stone
the hours are ropes i bounce off
while my invisible opponent
slugs me under the skin
punchdrunk and hobbling
a footprint of my former selves
i submit to any yoke
the ceiling is a void
it calls my dead soul
which cannot leave that screaming body
its all mixed up
i enter some semi-bardo state
some formless realm
within my dream
and i am only pain
pains spirit incorporeal
embedded in some unspeakable torment
a wraith twisting and untwisting
unwanted anywhere
trying to leave but there is nowhere else
time has not stopped
it never was
never
no time
no being
no right or wrong
no lyneham high
no bass guitar
no floral shirts
no gigs in melbourne
no smokes no drinks no girls
no friends no enemies
no records to make
no appointments to cancel
no dealers to ring
no money to pay
no prospects no future
what do you have then?
just memories
all writhing with malice
all distorted by time
all faded in the fog
all withered in the draconian winter
endless