The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

a wish
a joke
another thirty miles
travel in silence
journeymen
engine revolves
long shadows fall
birds look for land
out here the stars…..
moon looks like a …..
try n arrange somethin’
struggletown next
trainstations n milk bars
parked trucks n stolen bikes
brickworks closed down
signs missing
wrong road
getting more n more lost
feeling vulnerable
where to steven?
home
where are we now?
i dunno exactly
have you been here before?
yes n no
map?
no, its ok…i think
are you shaking?
a little…
whats wrong whats wrong?
nothing nothing
then why…?
i dunno
when will we…?
look, leave me alone
youre geeing me up
youre creating more problems
your suspicions are crippling me
just shut up…
ok ok but when will we….
i thought i told you to shut up
but i just wanted to ask this one last thing
but i told you i dunno
but just one more question n i will
but i cant answer
cant….wont…shouldnt..
what are you hiding from?
oh god…what are YOU hiding from?
you!
but….
yes thats right!
me?
but…..
hmmm
why?
youve had your question aint ya?
ok
ok
yeah…ok

13/13 morningside crescent
sweeping ocean views
rainclouds jostle in grey wash
industrious ants prepare for the deluge
is this a song
or a painting?
the steep drive
oilstains and pebbles
cactii n tropical wilderness
in the garage a thousand things
surfboards n rope n an old fridge
games n darts n an empty bucket of chlorine
oh australia
its dark and still
wasps have built a nest under the eaves
thin angry wasps almost silently buzzing
the leaves have fallen in the pool
and they lie at the bottom
spelling out something in some oriental way
light reflects n dances aquatically
afternoon
my old mate
inside ….
mmm nice kitchen
rain begins outside
lovely view
an old sailing ship on the blurry horizon
a ghost whale followed by a spirit crew
stevens here
sitting in a blue dressing gown with unravelling shoulders
sitting in the window type type type
grinding this all out
but coming to him so easy now
like greeced lightning the words flow from his tapered fingers
steven says sorry im busy type type typing
lets look around and around
the girls have left a mess on the stairs
dollies n gossip rags n little pets n pairs of shoes
sorry bout the mess steven calls over
but never lifts his head where he types
his computer is painted in van goghish swirls
his once broken arm with its oblique twist
his once dark hair faded to dusty brown
oh never mind
in the fridge is blackcurrant juice and exotic berry jam
theres nut cutlets n tempeh n rice milk n a half finished chilli
theres chocolate biscuits n yakults n aloe vera n goji juice
theres a thing for headaches n a bottle of stoli
theres a west virginia fridge magnet with a picture of uncle gary
theres a drawing that one of the girls did
of a mermaid with seaweed hair
and someone else has added something more to it
and one of those fridge magnet poetry kits
spelling out this poem
lonely luxurious lovers entered paradise beach
snow swirled up their hearts
suddenly seized with the great passion
they conceived a child
dazzle sun after you see
more to come
end
steven who wrote this
one of the girls?
yes
one of the girls
which one which one
which one
oh i cant …..
what is the music ?
oh i just wrote that on my laptop
its called steves elegaic breakfast
ha ha
the room at the top of the stairs
some bunk beds
toys n shoes strewn everywhere
we hear voices
but its empty
someone has stuck more pictures n drawings on the walls
unicorns
children with big heads n skewiff eyes
elaborate pictographs with fairies n chipmunks
drawings of houses n children holding hands
rain dripping on the little balcony
the trees huddle down
hey steven
but hes too deaf to hear me up here
the bookshelves full of books
credit n credulity by emilia bronte-sawros
the bumper book of sea shell stories 1964
emanuel on the isle of marvels
pathfinder 1959 annual for scouts n guides
extinct birds by mark sib-taupe
mexican diorama by tim leary n tom york
germaine greers biography of hugh hefner
quasi-modos big chance by some french guy
thats enough of that
a photo album
steven graduating from the school o hard knox
steven and the girls
steven and some of the girls
steven and one of the girls
steven playing at a festival in antarctica
steven with his mother n father at someones wedding
steven with his first guitar string
steven as a navy cadet on board a destroyer
steven as a cub with his wolf head insignia n skulls
steven at a picnic in 1983 eating angelfruit
hey steven..
eh….whats that?
hey do you still have any of those floral shirts?
(no answer)
bedside tables
dare i look in these drawers…
mm some loose change
a few odd sox
keys
a birthday card
from your sister kim
to my dearest big brother steven
happy happy happy day
wish i was there
me x
and a deck of cards
the queen of hearts looks so sad
take time to look at her husband
the suicide king
holding a knife at his head
because his sad wife and his rotten son
are driving him crazy
the rain sweeps n swoops in from the sea
in shining sheets
back down stairs
hey steven..
steven is gone
his falcon has flown off
the computer is still on
timebeing.blogspot.com
oh wow
hey this is interesting
its all here
hes written it all here
ha ha
oh im gonna read it now myself

warm storm
the bush the sea
fat raindrops
river of singing fish
no diving or fishing from bridge
steven john wake up
but mum….
im confused
dad says
were here slim
mum says
steven you slept all the way
oh the lagoon! look its the lagoon…
yes son
whens tea?
when uncle den arrives steven
go and have a walk on the beach son….
its getting dark
im a little scared
is this werri beach
is this wonoona beach
is this sussex inlet
is this ten mile beach
or is it neilsens park beach
or is it broulee the village by the sea
yes it is
it seems like night has fallen down rapidly
im standing outside my dads old place
it hasnt changed
the sandy almost treeless garden
a slightly mournful feel
but maybe thats cause…
cause what steven ?
cause i dont know…
cause my boy-mind cant comprehend
what went n happened to you
i stand outside this house
where this very sad thing happened
and i didnt expect to meet you here
we are interupted by a dark skinned blonde haired girl
who pops her head out the door
and the moths glitter in the air round the lamps
and the girl says hi im aurora
oh what a lovely name steven
yes mum its the roman goddess of the dawn
shes a golden girl son
yes mum can i go and talk to her
no son
youve got to come in now
but mum this is the house where dad…..
hey mum does that girl have an american accent?
yes i think so son….look five more minutes then come in
oh aurora do you live there now in that house….?
no …i …i..just stay here sometimes
hey aurora
yes dad
no dont call me that
my name is…
yeah i know
its steven
of course it is dad
steven steven!
oh is that your mom or i guess you say mum
yes she doesnt like me playing when its dark
are you afraid of ghosts? aurora asks
no i…..umm yes i am
ghosts of past and ghosts of future
a sickening collision
why do you think i am called the time being?
the trees genuflect in the wind
the ocean crashes on the soft white sand
the mist…oh its so perfect
a lovely ending

im on vacation
a secret location
oh sweet late summer breezes
lazy days
the ocean
hermit crabs
vege barbeques
romance
see ya later
t t b

the time being is taking a wee holiday
if i can log on from my secret location
i will
other than that see you soon
t t b

a list of famous people i have met n brief description
billy thorpe (aust 70s rock muso)
i met thorpey backstage at canberra theatre..not a badde guy
greg macainsh from skyhooks
spent a night at his place discussing songwriting in early 80s
a measured intelligent dude
red symonds from skyhooks..a lovable smartarse
not for the easily offended
bongo from skyhooks….very ordinary
steve lukather from toto…met him in a recording studio
the prick couldnt believe i never heard of him…a total l.a. wanker
ian mc cullough from echo…thick n stupid n short sighted (sorry k t g)
julian cope…ah more my cuppa bhang tea
a totally stoned drugged looney with his heart on his sleeve
me n ploogy smoked joints n supplied mushrooms
the rest of his band hated ‘im..but this was 1982
peter murphy….effeminate english schoolboy turkey
oh how disappointing…
garth porter from sherbert…diamond geezer
jackson browne…youthful, cautiously friendly
linda rondstadt..didnt recognize her in 87..a bit podgy.
tom verlaine..sarcastic sardonic hyper jumpy funny
richard lloyd…boy what a burnt out wreck
j d daugherty..one of the nicest people i ever met
ivan kraal n lenny kaye…both as nice as youd imagine
sinead…paranoid n twitchy
steve gilpin( rip) from mi-sex…a gentleman
paul kelly…seen paul over the years since 1980
always the nicest calmest guy
sean kelly from the models..a bit like me
guarded paranoid cynical
james freud…changed a lot over the years
bit of a diamond geezer these days
ps read his fucking book!
jimmy iovine..famous producer..very new york, but he was ok
clive davis head of arista..didnt say much
very powerful..he bootpolished the bald spots in his head
and when he sweated the black stuff ran
the rain parade…all lovely guys
angus n julia stone…very friendly
rose tatoo…ruff but lovable
ian rilen (rip) another diamond in the ruff
robert forster..intelligent cool slightly stand offish
powderfinger….all the nicest sweetest guys
john butler…ditto (but cant understand why hes so popular)
shayne carter from straitjackets..moody n intense..very n.z. n indy
jeffery cain…a darling man
grant mc ..ditto
mark knopfler …cockney geeza
duran duran….they tried to be friendly but i was rude
n they ended up being turkeys…but what did you expect
jj burnell from stranglers…a real live wire
gersey…all very nice
australian crawl…tossers
nick seymour…one of the funniest most charismatic guys ever
neil finn…quiet n intense
tim finn…kinda boring
kev carmody…complex sad lovely talented man
kev i hope this new record sells by the bucketload!!
real life( scraping the barrel here) …new romantic tossers
bert newton …professional but friendly
donny sutherland….easily frustrated interviewing pricks like me
anton from bjm…intense nutty bigmouth weirdo
rikki…aw..hes a fuckin sweetie
delta goodram n the oirish git…forgettable
danny minogue….superficial little nobody
but what didja expect
iggy pop…iggy was one of the most humble softly spoken guys
i ever ever met…
reg mombassa n pete odoherty….both champion blokes
andrew eldritch…tiny coked up twitchy little geeza…but good fun
lindy morrison….she used ta hate me…now she doesnt so much, very funny
amanda brown ….lovely lady
mark mcentee…weird
ploogy chased him round countdown studio
threatening to biff him it was hilarious
molly meldrum…an intelligent guy actually
i like him
craig mclachlan….nice aussie bloke
jules shear…a good friend for a while
sweet n lovely
swannee…a bit of an olde scottish wanker
bobby flynn…good guy
the pretenders… lovely people
chrissie herself…..cool but a bit lost…maybe
the bangles…uh…underwhelming…
peter koppes mwp n tim powles…ok dudes
holger czukay…fascinating chat in cologne cafe
warren ellis….friendly n nice
glen bennie…lovely man
evil graham lee…another lovely manne
blixa bargeld…whatta goose
mick harvey ..he was ok
tex perkins…dont like ‘im
the cruel sea…but i like all of them
nk met pete murray n chatted for a while
outside a porta-loo
she says soft spoken npolite…quite shy
tim butler from psychedelic furs
gave me a line of coke in 1984 in ny..a nice fella

god
thatll do!
but i know i forget some real bigshots somewhere

yessaday i read my biography again
i guess i was sposed to be checking for any innaccuracies
i dont really care about innaccuracies that much
i mean what does it matter what year singsongs was recorded..?
actually
and im sure rob lurie is reading this…
hes done quite a nice job…..
weird to suddenly see my story from his perspective…
i mean come on lurie..
you were some seriously uptight little fanboy…or what
and it was yer rite of passage to divest your psyche
of my unintentional superimposition
you see it happened to me too
with my fave popstars
but i was never lucky or unlucky enough to get to meet ’em
so i never gotta chance to do what lurie has done
and its strange to think
that i was casually writing n playing
and looking how i did…with my smirk n all
and somewhere out there
this teenage american kid in some suburban wilderness
is grokking it all
taking it all in
and
taking it all too seriously
just like me with marky boland n david boogie
except….
anyway rob got a masters degree for this book
and now i envy him
i mean cant someone confer a fucking honarary ornery masters degree on me?
cmon ya know i got more poetry in my little thingo
than all them professors at fucking harvard n yale put together
cmon give me some quals!
anyway i wasnt looking forward too much to the drug part
but lurie handles it with aplomb
and his “imagined” bits arent too far off the mark..
most of em anyway
and lurie attempts to come to some kinda understanding of my paradox
that is i can be so nice
or i can be so not nice
and hardly anything in the middle
and its funny that lurie puts the boot in a bit at the end
and he reckons that the fambley manne thing is an act
and my everyman pose is faux
and really im the same old prick
and rob youve hit the nail on the head actually
and its great to see that i can still perplex you after all these years
and its great that occaisionally your sense of frustration
because you wanted to shake my unbeknownst influence ages ago
and youve taken your obsession
and robby baybee
i like your book
i enjoyed it
theres a few bits gonna get me into trouble maybe….
but in the end
he does say that my stuff stood the test of time
though sadly he only gives ultc 3 stars
but he eventually comes to a conclusion that
it was kinda worth it
your heroes are never gonna be exactly how ya hoped
lurie should thank his lucky stars
that he did meet me as the stocky thinning haired everyman
and not the glamourous little prick he worshipped
or he woulda gone home with his delusions shattered
ive tried to change since those days
and i have changed as a natural process as well
like everyone
of course that old sk is still in the sub-strata somewhere
that nasty disinterested one
and to tell ya the truth
how could you be interested in every stranger
that ya met by the bucketloads in those days
jesus i was a arrogant turkey….sometimes
im not good at meeting people
it aint one of my skills
smalltalk n schmoozing
actually i dont care…
and man between 1986-1990
i met rob luries in every city of this world
guys who loved ya so much…
they wanted some intangible fucking thing…
i didnt know what it was
they didnt know what it was
except maybe i get em a deal with arista n produce their album
or something
anyway when it became apparent
that you werent interested at all
they often become argumentative n nasty
not understanding that
youre in the middle of a long tour
and its late
n yer stoned and or drunk
n very tired
n you cant even remember the lyrics
some fresh scrubbed “college” kid in boise is querying you about
as i said before
if youd let me loose on my heroes
im sure i woulda come home with cuffed ears
but it sure was tedious meeting some of those guys
lurie…i didnt even remember meeting him
till i read a little thing hed written about meeting me in london
during my “tired n emotional” phase
and his piece was brutally honest but he could still see
something in my shambles that kept him going
i completely perplexed him with my unintentional carryon
and he wrote it well
ya see rob thinks he hasnt gotta naxe to grind
but i wonder if he can percieve that he does
?
and that is
when you go n worship someone that much
well
you sorta feel like …..
well its hard to explain…
you feel a bit annoyed or something
that youve spent so much effort on them
instead of getting yer own thing together
its great to have influences
its impossible not to
but when the time comes
ya gotta make the break
which is the difference between me n him
i made the break
and he didnt
now rob i hope ya dont mind me analyzing ya here on my blogge
i get a bit of analysis in ye olde bio n ya gotta suffer the slings n arrows
i think its a real good read and its written pretty well
a style emerges and i enjoyed it
i wont cringe at all if i see it in a bookstore
does this mean you can say authorised?
wow i read this book about david bowie some guy wrote
that was not authorised
jesus naughty david
with his thing for black womens bottoms
n the shadow that infested his swimming pool
and the cocaine
and the cocaine
and the…
did i mention cocaine?
i guess him n that biographer dont speak much these days…
ha ha
so i say
read robs book by all means
theres some hilarious stuff in there
like pryce surplus and his bitter rant
about how i lack any credibility and how i can never have it
gee pryce uh didja see the five star review last week in the age?
and simon polinski saying what a diamond geezer i am
cmon polinski, get fucking real, olde bean
im a bastard and ya know it
ha ha
rob it was interesting to revisit my self thru your eyes
i felt good when id finished reading it
and i also felt happy for ya too
cos it IS a good book
and you finally got something concrete outta all that kilbey carryon
you turned it round my son
youve done well!
ah ….
dont it bring a little tear to yer eye?
no?

yesterday hadda jam with jonny z
hamish s
and stu h
jazzy players
we met up at this place overlooking tamarama beach
good lord i feel like im in a modesty blaise film up there
cactus plants n courtyards
a table n chairs outside overlooking the pacific
god these jazz guys can play
i get confused easy at 1st
im playing my bass
so theres electric bass
n double bass
then hamy on drums
stu on piano
im all thumbs
i feel like ive never played my bass in our lives
i wanna show these guys i can play
but i cant get even the smallest thing together
i think about yoga
i think about swimming
gradually i relax and get some discipline over my fingers
i start doing a little chordal riff
j z comes in on a slippery slidey bass thing
the drums n piano come in like magic
ok we all know we onto something
a cuppla hours later n we got a good instrumental piece
recorded on stueys phone
we knock out a cuppla more things
wow
i hope we could get to record this stuff
i wanna string some narrative lyrics over the top
anyway we have a cuppa tea with the druid who lives there
my envy dismantled immediately when he turns out to be real nice
ha ha
anyway after that
“the eagle landed” chez killbee
and rikki tikki came over
now clock this
2 of the grooviest alt-rock-space-indy-windy-miney-mo rockers
ever
i mean
the bj fuckin m…..dude…where you been..!!!???
rikki youre so bohemian…AAAARGGGHHH!
anyway nk wants to have a wee sleep
but not with ye olde bumper..
however the doodles want something to eat
despite ricky being late for an appointment
with even more groovy rockstarz
in ultra-hip/groovy paddington
hes pressed into service
the bumper has climbed like a chimp into my arms
and she aint being put down
how can i cook like this…i moan
and ricki jumps into action
i mean as a cook hes a good guitarist
and he keeps asking me
what to do next
as he juggles tomato soup n toasted sandwiches
well this is alright
i got this other dude cooking the doodles food
and all i gotta do is hold bumper
whos in a sad mood
we listen to my version of images of london
on a brand new kev carmody tribute record
out now on emi
who?
emi
eventually
after being very patient
me n eve n aurora drive ricky off to his film
course hes pretty late by now
but true to form
rikki never complains
i can see why they need ya in that groop
a calm rocker in the eye of the sturm und drunks
on the way home i quiz the doodles on names of baby animals
they dont know that baby swans are called cygnettes
thats a silly name they both protest
and fingerling strikes their fancy as another silly name
aurora (who is nicknamed the biggle
because when she n eve were babies
she was the big girl)
says dad what do they call baby biggles
i dunno i say
chatlings she says
cos aurora is aurora love-a-chat
and she can talk the hynde leg off a donkeys ass
q:how are you guys today
both: good?
what about yer cough aurora?
good….uh, not really
have any dreams lassanite?
both : no!
aurora : thats what we say…err we dont really know
do you guys believe in god?
both : yeah
eve : who the heck dya think made all this earth?
aurora : he lives forever
what happens when someone dies?
a: a one way ticket to the underworld…
e: they go up into heaven and fish go to the
big blue pond in the sky..
what does art mean to you?
eve : its really important to do some art each day
that way ya get better n better
a: its a very simple part of nature
eve; it is a part of nature cos papers made outta trees!
i gotta few more questions
aurora walks off holding her back
im sorry dad i dont think i can make it..
cmon i say
ok 3 more questions
whats the worst thing with adults?
aurora : they tell ya what to do
whats the best thing with adults?
a: they take care you
e : i dunno whatd aurora say?
would either of you like to sing or play music for a living?
a : yes id like to have a rock band with my frends
e : sing
hows the bumper?
nk :sleeping
hey nk whats it like being my wife?
nk : (long silence) its a real adventure….
(hmmm thats ambiguous)
nk laughs sounding like betty rubble
whats yer favourite chrunch song?
nk a hard question to answer
aurora:under the wilky under the ….
i gotta feeling that whatever i ask you..
nk: me?
aurora : i answered his questions..
nk i’ll give you five of my favourite
ok
nk: invisible,telepath, its no reason, buffalo,real toggle action
(wow 4 outta five aint bad)
the bumper arrives and starts kissing auroras belly
whats the best thing about living in australia?
nk : um oh god….all the beautiful beaches..australia
no i dont wanna say that…(in a soft seductive tone)
i was gonna say gettin to see all the cherch shows here…
(oh good girl, nk!)
what do you, apart from your family, miss most about the u.s.a?
nk( slightly teary eyed) oh god i wanna say something interesting..
forget that. what do you really miss…?
nk…i …i…miss the trees the seasons and autumn all the trees
changing colours n in spring ….all the classic seasons
what do dislike most about australia?
nk : ummm…oh god (betty rubble laugh) all the cockroaches
whats it like being a woman
nk: hmmm…..ummm…clears her throat
sometimes its the most wonderful thing
sometimes the hardest..
me: but you could say that about being a man
nk : you could..
whats the worst thing about me?
nk ; the way you often harshly judge yourself
sometimes youre too critical of yourself..
what about when im being over egotistical…doesnt that negate
the harsh standards?
nk : smiles ..laughs ..very occaisionally you can be annoying with that
but youre an extraordinary person..
me : shucks
one last question
what goes on behind locked doors?
nk : oh no (starts to giggle) are you really asking me that?
me : yes
nk : cant ya just put
wouldnt y’all love to know…

a wave of nausea filled the being
as he jumped headlong into the future
when he awoke he was alone
a dark night sky filled a vast expanse
stars twinkled
but he could recognize none of the constellations
a lonely creature howled somewhere far away
the being shuddered
in the darkness things rustled
he could hear the drip drip drip of moisture
he could feel the awful weight of that forsaken sky
pressing down upon him
so this was it huh?
the much vaunted future
well it was warm
warm n dark
erskine wondered where he was
the soft rain began
music started up
somewhere
sad music
music that sang about erskines life
he couldnt even hear any words
but in his heart he felt the song
oh so long ago
no these memories…..
from another earth
from another person
steve kilbey
ha ha
erskine had written a little novella
called ephemera
it really didnt have much plot
just this musician wandering around
having misadventures
n getting killed
in some other world
a world with cities that have names like
boston
erskine set his story in 1986
was that past or still to come now?
steve kilbey was playing this place in boston
he was playing before another musician called reverb n rabbits
boston was a strange place
bitterly brutally cold
oh how erskine wouldve enjoyed a blast of bostons freezing winter air
but it was afterall only fiction
in erskines world it was warm n damp
erskine swung malarial in his hammock
erskine was delerious n delusional thats for sure
he dreamed he was the time being too
the time being was some older guy with a white beard
some smart arse “space rocker” erskine had hallucinated one night
well, it was always night now
i mean
the sun was out there shining of course
but
well erskine couldnt actually explain what had happened
but anyway
that was before he was born
he had heard all those old wives tales
about the moon
and about winter
but quite franklin
he wasnt buying any of it
anyway erskine left all that “what if only”s to other people
he was a musici….
no i mean he was a magician
and he wrote a thing called a blogge
which is a silly name
i mean even the olde being was stuck with that
and young steve kilbey in boston playing his thing
jesus so slim n all that hair
does he even know that im dreaming him up
hanging in my hammock
malarial n outta my skull on opiummmm?
the being out there somewhere
being himself
being others
the being, himself
himself, the being
or stevie k
playing that song
he dont even know why he wrote that song
i mean
he didnt….i did
me here in boston
i look in the mirror
tight blue pants
a waistcoat n a silk shirt
2 blue mexican crucifix studs in ears
a naive face late twenties or early thirties
i gotta play now
i gotta get ready
i gotta strap on this …uh…plank..
but no wand….but…
no musicians dont have wands..
musicians play things
like kilbey playing a ……
oh i cant quite picture it
a keyboard
typing typing
commands to execute
the being intruding
the intruder being
erskine look up at the stars again
antares n arcturus
and artemis and palanor
and the pole stars and the green star
and if you want to be a star of stage n screen…
words intersected in erskines head
emerald haunt and overdrive
i mean its nonsense isnt it
it doesnt even make grammatical sense
unless emerald is being addressed in the vocative case
in which case the emerald is being commanded to haunt
but by who and why?
nightmare descent into nineveh city
sang steve kilby
and the crowd, the audience could see it all
i mean theyre my fictional audience
you know not real people
like nevets yeblik n his muse
not like me johnny erskine
and my wife conesuela
whos spanish or mexican or..
and not like that olde time being
inhabiting the nooks n crannies in history
out there in his future
a legend in his spare time
who ?
whos that?
and who are you
eaves dropping on us…?
what could you want here
as i swing in my hammock
as he sings in boston in 19 eighty 6
as the being sits there type type type
hammer on hammer off i say
i say treat women rough and theyll make you breakfast in bed
i say privelege in privelege
i’d speak spanish to my wife
but shes gone gone gone
she left me this note
called
el momento descuidado
but thats weird
i mean
its not even proper spanish…
why would she write that….
the being types as erskine swings as stevie sings
we need microphones and managers…
a microphone …thats what kilbys instrument was called…
but why would kilby sing that…?
it doesnt matter
no ones gonna care what the words are
i mean the words are a prop
for the story of the time being
and this other one too
a negative reversal
and daughters…!
yes…there were daughters…
and the song was called mer
it was about the sea i guess
and there was this book called
the ground under her feet
and damnit it beat me to my storey
about a singer called steve kilbey who channels music
from this universe into his
which is like ours except a few key things have been changed
for example in his universe
there is a band called the rolling stones who are very successful
while here the rolling stones are a tribute band to
the greatest rocknroll band on earth
the b j m
i mean anton newley has singlehandedly shaped rock since
he burst out of liverpool in the 19?0s
i mean…
what do i mean
and what about ricki the lead rhythm guy
did he drown in my swimming pool
or was that jorge harryson?
santa francesca
the corner of haight n crown streets
no no
theres no such place
its an intersection
its only a point after all
but what is a point
and what is the point?
right?
and anton newley wrote that song
i cant get no brown sugar
and another group called six inch nails did a duet
with victory a’mos
and trex was in the cretaceous error
and by concealing a small metal pick
in the fleshy folds of his feet
houdini was able to play the ebow solo in mer
muse: youve fucken flipped olde bean..
nevets yeblik pots won
sure sure
we understand
the pressure
the late nights
the drinkin’drugs
the blinkin’ lights
the hammering tongs
damn
the hammock swings
the singer and his voice
the good type types good
muse where are you?
and all the carni-voormen
and the hyena-girls?
and is this the malaria talking
type type type
ive run out of ink
thinks nevets
kilbys singing about the highway
and the pain in their ice
he knew about the thaw i guess
did we all intersect there
which ice?
the polar caps?
the drug?
the ice in the mescal he used ta drink in those days?
who cares anymore
i can never unravel this mess
see see for yourself
im run down by a train
stand back from a shark attack
and its all the same…
hey that IS good
relax killbee never wrote that…
no?
not in this world any way
maybe over there
where?
you know
there
there?
yeah!

stabbing in the dark
billy franklin shut down his neurotine fountain
bad science fiction always made him cringe
and this wasnt gonna be any different
god i hate all those conjunctive pseudo-bullshit words
he said wiping the preda-tour from his chrypto- puce
franklin
as you may remember
is your futuristick magickal uber-agent
working for a cabal of tycoons n millionaires
intent on subverting “reality”
franklin is gaunt n wasted
his thin air plastered against his scalp
like steerpike on meth-analog
or like andre breton on neo-pix
or like robert the bruce on shreddy-mones minus the fucking kilt
or like apollo mc god on ambrosia dipped purple heads
yeah franklin is a cool cool cat
hes got nine lives too
one for the flaming sun
2 for the location
3 for the martyrs and the etc etc etc
billy franklin always gets a 5 star review too
for all his music/chrymes
franklin is the laydees man
franklin is the last word in hideo-cute
he hunts down carnivores n picks em off with his appender
nothing funny than a flesho out of phase with himself
franklin dont care
they been warned
franklin hadda laugh
a cannister of clean air was now more expensive
than a bottle of clean water
i mean you could still breathe the “free” air
but everynow n then you hadda pop a can of kleen-heir
or yer lungsd give up the ghosting
ever since china n india had become chindia
everytime franklin took a deep breath
he could hear his lungs straining n weezing
trying to find any stray oxy-gen in there
todays assignment: the time being
21 st century blogger n spacerocker
the being had seen it coming way way way back
the 1970s…can you credit that ?
but then in 2007 came the beings crisis of faith
where hed come to a fork in the road
and the being had chosen the nonexistent middle way
deserted by his protogees n disciples
lost in a roman wilderness of pain
for 40 days n nights
tormented by grotesque visions
tempted by the deville
now manifested as a big fat aussie show biz exec
maaate dont ya wanna make some real munnie?
asked the tasteless buffooon
his safari suit open to reveal a leo pendant on his hairy chest
the devilles beer n wine gut hung over his calf-leather belt
and upon his fingers flashed ostentatious gold
maate all ya gotta do is play unguarded moment n eat this
he pushed over a barrel of mc chicken-knuckles
he pulled out a copy of “the charts”
it wasnt just the music charts
the deville had the charts on everything
who was making the most money
who was getting the most sex
who was taking the most drugs
who was living in the nicest house in vaucluse
who was listening to the most hip n obscure music
who was envied most
who stuff was coveted most
whos image was the most copied
who was the most enlightened
who was the most young looking olde guy
who was the most holier than thou
it was all there
an index of where you stood
now he offered the being the world
get thee behind me seitan muttered the being
but the lord of evil was not thru
maate remember how ya used to sell out 2 nights at the enmore?
maate remember how ya used to stay at the poshmore hilton in vaucluse?
and how ya always had a ford waitin for ya at the heir-porte
and ya started with a fuckin falcon n then
i took ya up to a forte
n then a futura
then a fairmont
then a fuckin fairlane
then finally
a LTD
maate you were drivin round in a LTD!
the devilles alcohol swollen veins popped in his face
whats fuckin wrong with ya maaate
you coulda haddit all
you had the loox
you had the choons
you had a grate banned….
my 7th wife n i danced to unguarded moment
at my # 6s beheading n our wedding
the old deville belched a sulphorous !
scuse me mate
ive gotta fuckin ulcer!
missus served up chicken vindaloo
n i feel crook…
have you thought of a vegan diet?
asked the thoughtful being
mee….naaah…im the deville aint i
you cant have a vegan deville can ya?
well why not? offered that pleasant being in his melodious voice
well…began the dev
suddenly he exploded in anger
look i just like the taste…ok?
sure said that handsome calm being
the deville said
how olde art thou being?
verily replied the radiant being
i am 52 summers
no fuckin way groaned the deville
as he eyed his flowing chins n greying flesh
he held his bulging belly n his knees creaked
im only fuckin thirty nine…
the deville stopped and the room grew silent
suddenly franklin burst thru the door
he was naked…all timetravel must be naked
franklin stared at devilles buxsome gorgeous vegan secretary
hey honey do ya like time travel…?
the security men burst thru the door levelling their salami guns
at the being n franklin
and the sprinkler system went off
the infra red alarms went off too
and the whole place was breaking up
the being ,franklin n the naked secretary
ran thru the now cracking apart building
take them
take them
screamed the dev
his men all crack shots
could not seem to hit our hero
the 3 fled out a secret passageway
that ran under a nuclear playstation
suddenly they came to a sheer drop
the ocean crashed around rocks far below
the devilles men were on their trail
there was only one thing left to do
(to be continued)