The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

sam sejavka has a blog
sailsofoblivion.blogger.com
it promises to be weird n wonderful
but youd expect that from him, wouldnt you?
this fried-day i hit melnibone
playing with david birdie
who ive never met or spoken to
wonder what we’ll do?
a genius should be prepared to think on his feet
so im ready for all contingencies
please feel free to drop in and watch me happen
db will probably blow me off the stage
(dont take that the wrong way, mr humphries)
(mr humphries!)
im flying down early so we can figure things out
simone polinski is doing our mix
im talking to e graham lee from triffids re january shows in syd
the logistics of getting a band back together w/ guest singers
whos doing which song and why…
you also know about kev carmody in early jan at state
your humble hero doing his kc song images of london
be nice to see kev after all these years
never met him when i was “clean”
struggling with commish but will nail it
feel confident i can take on anything n
do it some rough justice
plus i got excelsior on 27 oct
hope i can be as good there as i ended up being in auckland
but i may serve up a christchurch
who knows
not me
i ring my olde mate in can-berra
paul c
to tell him of twillies n minna in particulars fascination
for david bowie circa hunky dory
can she ever get sick of the bewlay brothers?
i listened to that song a bit in rehab
when i was in the one cobain escaped from
the aching painful hours went by like years
i’d lay on my bed listening to bewlay brothers
and reading the gita
i was right there in the moment
with no casing
with no protection
every note n word meant something to my screaming brain
ohhhh and we were gone!
how i longed to be gone
i hadnt quite managed to kill myself
i read that some chick rockstar o.d.ed in the bath
that seemed ok to my ravaged sensibility
i envied her
i envied her her oblivion
i envied her not having chronic insomnia
i wanted to rest in peace like that
in the bath…..just slipping away
i watched the oj fiasco live on tv
if he didnt kill that woman
i aint the mangey panther!
i saw people in the rehab pair up
even tho it was against the rules
i saw em smuggle in drugs but i abstained
i listened to their stories
and they listened to mine
hi im steve n im an addict
i loved telling my story
whatta story
i used to add lots of bits
cmon
im an artiste, i embellish the truth
i tell lies to tell the truth
i told em whoppers too
yeah i been on the gear my whole life
yeah im a big rockstar n im real tough
yeah i cant be happy without it
meanwhile
i was in a room with a guy from porno for pyros
martyne, a blonde guy
i played my 12 string in the dusty courtyard
this place was no 5 star motel
“mommy why you staying at this motel again ?”
asked a little black girl who hadnt understood
mommy was a cocaine fiend
towards the end of my stay there
we got buses n went to gyms where i swam
we went to aa n na meetings
where we saw the occaisional famous druggie
joe walsh from the eagles visited me in my room
(this is true)
he used to visit any musicians staying at exodus
(and there were plenty)
i asked him how he liked the other guys in the eagles
who had recently reformed
he spun round n looked at me
“well, i hate the bastards but i aint drinkin'”
dallas from csn and y, the drummer
he was there all the time talking to the junk sick musos
i got his autobiography off him
boy thats a sobering read in rehab
he gave me crosbys book long time gone
jesus ,crosby ended up in a metal cell wanted by the fbi
thank you lord that i didnt go as far down the path as he did
a nurse there told me she knew kurt wasnt gonna make it
“he had that look, ya know
like the baby antelope that gets singled out by the lions
you knew he was lost”
i tried to bust out one day
but my junky contacts in l.a. had all been warned
not to take my calls
besides i had no money
eventually i was driven to airport
where i boarded a plane to sweden
where i spent 6 weeks living in the country
singing my sweet lord n hare krishna to the swedish cows
(they loved it but the farmers told me to piss off!)
i swam in the lake n ate good food
gradually my ability to sleep returned minute by minute
i took the twillies then aged 3 for walks thru the hushed forests
i did the dishes outdoors n washed in the lake
i lay on black basalt rocks alone
in the gentle warm scandic summer sun
and i convalesced
i watched the white swans building their nest in the reeds
i rowed a leaky boat with twillies over to a small church
where karins grandparents were buried
and we put flowers on their graves
minna was confused that they were in the ground
and yet
simultaneously in heaven
i swung in a hammock n was eaten alive by mosquitoes
i saw a sick fox wander into a clearing
i wrote poetry
at night i would take the long path to the lake
looking for sleep in its chilly waters
i cried alone in these lovely but alien nights
i talked to vishnu
i stubbed my toe in the dark
and walked into things
i thought about heroin all the time though
and eventually when i returned to aust
i succumbed again
i was not fixed
i was not finished with it
i still thought i could get back in the ring
with that monster
and have another swing
that monster no one can beat
that bitch whos fucked everyone (up)
that nassty substance hiding in my cortex
whispering its seductive propaganda
“take me back, baby
itll be just like the olde days
you know
when we first started
and i wont hurt you again
i promise
oh baby
you know i’m the only one
can make you feel the way you want
please baby, let me back in”
and as soon as you do
the honeytongued beauty turns into a hideous fury
and she got ya by the balls
and she says
“get down on yer knees boy
im back to stay
and its gonna be real hard to ever git rid of me again”
anyway
gee
i been in a famous rehab
but it was real nasty there
i saw a lotta sad things
when peoples families n wives n hubbies
came n visited on the weekend
i saw a guy discover that his fiancee
was with some other coke fiend in a room up the hall
it all happened before my eyes
this most private thing
at a family meeting there one weekend
i saw fathers who refused to acknowledge their kids
n mothers who blamed emselves
“oh little frankie never woulda smoked crack
if i wasnt such a bad mother!!”
“yes, my mother made me a crack addict!”
“oh, if i give her enough wool
will she make me one, too?”
(bitta levity folks
cos i know you find this drug stuff
heavy going
unless you been thru it yerself
but
sorry
i guess it was reading sss blogge
or just cos its part of what made me who i am)
i met lots of characters in these places
junky vetenarians of 60
hookers n whores
pill popping doctors n nurses
coked out lawyers n businessmen
gangsters
(yep
i was in a room with a black guy
who was asking me about sydney
with a view to taking over
this “candy-ass” town)
other stupid musos
like me
maids n models
groupies n group-captains
italians n americans n africans n jews
old
young
idiot
genius
all hooked on this n that
all trying to get off the hook
there was a poster of john wayne
dressed up as a soldier
and hes saying
if you think lifes tough…try being a speedfreak!
i hated the chemical smell of the place
i hated my injections against the chronic nausea
i was throwin up buckets of green bile
which seared my throat on the way up n out
anyway
thats enough of that
it does me good to remember it occaisionally
if you didnt like it
i’ll be back with the candy-ass stuff
tomorrow

picked up a pack of fairy bombs
only 18 dollars
green fairy bombs
fairy cross the mercy
fairy meadow where i was formerly from
my shuffle chucks up some krautrock
how trippy
i search my mind for memory
i delete yesterdays events
clear history
i float above the histrionic tripe hurled at me
after all that
do i have to suffer this nonsense ?
please one comment per person
please keep it relevant
cos i do wanna read what you think of it
please consider what i write today
if youd like to be considerate
please desist with the bullshit
its depressing me
it tires me out
it enervates me
why ?
i try…
oh i am
i am
i am the saint who is no saint
yes thats who i am
but i get tired of bad energy assaulting me
i do my thing quietly
i love children n animals
i dont eat the beasts
and i make music
no skeletons in my closet for quite a while now
how tedious when someone tries to drag out an old one
or tries to dream up some silly fluster
besmirching my fucking not so good name
here on my very own pages
for some hysterical melodramatic bunkum
please im olde and im tired now desist
im trying to write some poetry here for you
im trying to weld unweildy forms together
im trying to find some beauty in this afternoon
dont hassle a poet!
see i had something better than this
for the people who were interested
what a shame!

imagine the pleasurefield
with all its gratifications
see the dipping edge of wish
carved from pearl and silver
whipping it distantly
burrowing in the earth
or billowing through the ether
or breaking into sound on a silent world
yes you
imagine the pleasurefield
as it tumbles inside there
and the raving mad god who bestrides its interior
a shower of stardusted rusted up midnight spare parts
in your rooms by the harbour
where you entertained the ambassador
along the seablack wharf with its sickly lapping
the mangey gulls alight on rotting poles
and waiters running back n forth in their vanity
and the people attack their food with lust
and i envy them their appetite
but too slothful to eat
the ambassador relishes his gluttony as he devours you
it makes me so angry to watch
his pride stains the floorboards open
7 times 7 his deadlies
man you fractured ivory coast
imagine the pleasurefield
with its cardinal scams
and its out of work actresses
unlaughing after having scene
the size of your determination
think of all the free drugs
that theyll give you as soon as you get clean
think of all the sex once youre celibate
think of how as soon as it all stops
how something else immediately starts again
as good as you can ever be
someone says oh thats too bad
someone else says oh its saturday night here
you know im at a party
and its warm and some people jump in the pool
i didnt realize that the stuff would make me feel like this
i see some man dancing with his wife
but in his eyes he looks like the devil
it occurs to us that the devil is among us
in denim and board shorts and driving a ute
wow thats so cool you say as we leave the place
wow i wonder who he knew there you say
wow he looked like a guy who knew his way around town
down by the rocks in the darkness
you fumble with my black velvet shirt
youve lost me in the darkness
and youre undoing the past
the rocks are slippery and green
and the ambassador lights his pipe
the air fills with the acrid smell of the stuff
diplomatic immunity he grins n exhales
the police are out there watching us all im sure
he gestures towards the ocean
out there doing their job
he points towards the lowered sky
or up there chasing villains
a childs sandcastle collapses
and the crabs jump out of their shells
the worms in their sandy holes with tiny legs
the suctions of their greediness
the swift silver mackerel who swallows the hook
as i tear it from its throat
it stares up at me
absolving me of all my murderous guilt
i realise we’re on a boat
and i lurch to the rails
as the white wake rushes past
and i fall into the foam
and surface in a lagoon in shadow
wandering to a house
the reeds jostle each other crackling and moaning
the blooms are all there too
big blooms and little daisy
and the woods with their small offspring
and the stones who came especially
and the waters from rainy sydney
the fields from around here
salt and pepper of the eartha
ritual for no reason
enveloping haze of marine evening
serener pastures
the orchestra swells up
is this the end?
yep

read my zip
you useless stars
my energy is uncontainable
and it burns and returns
my soul slowly learns
even if this is a joke
well im laughing
all the way to the riverbank
all the way this time
nothings gonna stand in my way out
who was the one who told ya how the trick was done
look at that
what a great line
who was the one….
who showed ya…
yeah i like showed better than told
who should ya…
who showed ya what?
who showed ya how the trick was done
which trick baby?
which trick doth he mean?
well the clue is in showed, little pig
indeed it is
cos the trick and the show are one and the same
the same and the one show
where you get tricked
but you wanna be tricked
or is it part of the trick
that you wanna be tricked
one more trick in one more show
the killer steps up on the stage
the last stage outta town
the killer who has murdered poetry
the killer who mangled the music
the same killer who maimed art
the killer straps on his bass guitar
for the 10,000th time
he plugs in to 10,000 shocking volts
here is part of the trick
here in the show embedded with tricks
and hes showing you how these tricks were done
oh i thought it was part of the show you say
that hes showing us how the tricks are done
thats just part of the show, right?
yes thats right
i would wrongly say
the killer is showing you
that hes not tricking you
but if you do want a show
a little trickery may be a consequence
and tricks of the trade
and tricks of the light
and overtricks
and undertricks
magic tricks
hocus pocus
diplodocus
yes i know a few magic words
yes i know sutras for obtaining favour
yes i can command a small army of elementals
yes i can even induce the entire universe to change
all this power has unbalanced me
and now i’m mad
and being mad makes me angry
so im mad and mad
and ive put all this energy into my bass
its got a loada songs inside it
and the people in the songs
came out of their songs
while im on the stage
those songpeople with spidery voices
caressing up my basses neck
and curdling in my fingertips
these song characters made of music
made of solid stainless steel music
bulletproof music weighing in at 10,000 ks
the bass was rebelling under my hand
the hand that had fed it
the only hand it had ever known
the wood warped n woofed
the strings attached themselves
the frets frowned down and i fell a semi tone short
floundering in a sea of dissonance
i was a drowning drone in d flat
i was washed up on the shore like a dead b
a killed b
someone laughed
(was it you?)
they killed b flat
now hes diminished
unaugmented
seventh sealed
riffed over n out
scaffolding n skeleton crew
the stretched note
a long drawn out cadence
a conductor of lightning
a flash of ether burnt
smell of cordite
smell of ammonia
smell of electricity in ozone
sound of a shot
sound of a kiss
sound of the sea

in harridans black hall
where father and kathy were waiting
while ugly snouts sniffed outside
quickly they shouted in the gathering wind
and the whole house felt like it was crying
hurry they called through the widening gap
and i at last jumped for all i was worth
as the night crashed through the hole
let me tell you they were laughing
on the otherside
kathy was holding fathers hand
and father said
sit down here son… we’re still moving
the night moved within songs we sang then
kathy turned to me as she sang and she smiled
and oh her smile sang another song
and father held us tightly as we hurtled headlong
where is it we’re going father i asked
but kathy said ssshh
and father concentrated as hard as he could
because everything was changing he said
everytime i come back he murmured
and kathy just kept singing and singing
are we still moving i shouted above the stillpoint
father had closed his eyes
he was having a lay down i think
dont touch him said kathy
or he’ll wake up i said
she nodded solemnly and yawned herself
im terribly sleepy she said
no kathy i said
no you mustnt go to sleep as well
dont be silly she said as she closed her eyes
and left me there all alone
it seemed like i was on my own again now
i sat there feeling so sorry for myself
i sat there choking on my sobs
as father and kathy slept
i hate this if its a dream i shouted to the dark sky
but if it heard it did not answer
and if it answered then i did not hear it
green life was germinating around all the corners
the night was no longer black
i perceived it to be a deep violet
with crimson veins running through it like skin
i realized that it moved and stretched like a fabric
the stars which i had thought to be white
were revealed in pale yellows and vague reds
the morning cannot be faraway i heard myself think
and i wondered what kathy was dreaming of
i soon became aware of the earth
as it rotated in space somewhere
how its light travels to us from the lightless regions
how the moon can be seen in every pool
how the reflection dazzled me when i was there
and the inevitable glow of childhood
illuminating almost every corner of space
how the dust danced in the morning sun
i started to sing the song again
that lovely song kathy had been singing
and its words gave me a kind of strength
and its melody uplifted my flagging spirit
the otherwordly night in its own light
the churning feeling of the voyage
the celestial beings who sang along with me
in the marvellous distance

good whatever it is wherever you are, ladies n gentlemen
i’d a like to thank the people who subscribe
i’d a like to thank those who made it possible with kind donations
if you cant afford to, dont worry, i thank you too
thanks for the people who sent me stuff
stefandroolin’
the greek princess
people ive lost track of but im still grateful to…
muse: he ended on a preposition
i’d a like to thank the people who stuck by me
thru the long years
thank you
thank you
thank you
its blue and windy in sydney australia
polinski is mixing painkiller
mk should be working on k/k
the church will be back in dec
probably doing a double bill with another band
from the same era
it made sense to do it i guess
we will be starting a new record in nov/dec
maybe doing our own tour jan/feb
jlk n i are cooking up a new scheme
therell be more about that soon
and i think some of ya will be excited about it
i had a great art sale and sold loads of pieces n prints
thank you holly the eek who made it all happen
i am a little distanced from painting at the moment
after a frenetic burst a while back
im working on a commission
and ive stalled
and now
scarlet the woofle
has scribbled all over it in thick grey pastel
which is pretty much how i feel about it too
my art room is a mess again
suitcases guitars n cases stuff everywhere
bits o paper, books,cds
its a warzone
scarlet has wreaked some fuckin’ havoc in there
evie won a prize for public speaking
and an award for” making thoughtful contributions
to class discussions”
go evie starr
aurora the bunny childe mooches along placidly
minna is jumpy tricky and highly strung
she n elli are doing real well at their new school
boyfriends are afoot
parties abound
let the good times roll, twillies
16 is a really special age
i was dreaming and in love the whole time
i discovered t rex and fell in love with bolan
i met my first girlfriend at the library
it was a warm warm late spring night
she had a sister
and it was hard telling them apart
we walked home thru the shops and then the pines
we sat on the steps of my high school
which was opposite her house
she talked about how often she washed her hair
but it could have been poetry for all i cared
everything was new to me
we didnt touch or kiss
but i was succumbing to a new drug
the canberran evening turned magical
all the songs were playing in my head
the evening invited me deeper and deeper
the girl got up and went home
i sat n watched her house for a while
and then i drifted home
floating on a dreamy cloud
just like they said it would be…
before xmas
her family had a party
there were loadsa people there
loud music and alcohol
wow
i had a girlfriend of my own
and i went to parties on hot nights
and stood outside smoking cigarettes
n arguing about music with her other sisters boyfriends
i hung around in the kitchen talking to her brothers
i went down to her bedroom n stole a kiss
boy
i could get used to this
no one from my school was there
(these people were all catholics)
i was free to reinvent myself
as some groovy hipster
as some suburban romeo
it ended at around 2 in the morning
when the parents came back….
oh to relive that party again n again
oh to be 16 n in love for the 1st time
i hope my kids can enjoy it
its indeed a magical time of yer life
n it comes but once
a few times ive driven down my olde school
when im in canberra
theres the house
theres the school
but that evening has long fled
long ago it disappeared n took all traces of itself away
would any of the other people there still remember it?
i doubt it
yet it shaped my life in so many ways
such is its intangible influence on me
a warm happy lovely place i can go in my mind
or when im swimming in the cold pool
or walking down a lonely hard road
i hope you all have some memories like that
i know the teen years can be so hard
but so bloody enchanted too
all my love
steve

dead crabs lay on the bottom of the icebergs pool
the water is cold
uninviting
what am i doing swimming in here today
its grey and windy
the ocean is metallic with white crests appearing
bondi is dull and deserted
just the endless building and renovation
the same olde tiresome characters (like me)
the same olde dips n trips
everything gets on my nerves
my energy ebbs away
even this blog pisses me off
why am i writing it again?
i see some little idiot virus has infested the comments again
i can hardly be bothered squashing it
i see people are having conversations there
after i asked them not to
i see some people do appreciate that im trying to give em
the dark stuff
i write my blog live
and if i feel bad
it all goes in
this is an experiment
im telling you the truth
something has upset the applecart
what is this subtle alteration
that changes everything?
why does everything seem so meaningless suddenly?
yes it must have been the buzzz
wow
or something…
yes ive been going a bit hard lately
its all caught up with me
but im not pleading hard done-by
almost every bad thing
that ever happened to me
was done by
me
well i wanted to feel high
then i had to feel low
i wanted bliss
then i got despair
i wanted out
but i got stuck further in
i wanted to fly
so i had to fall
oh i knew all of this
so long ago
i write my blog
its there for everyone to read
doesnt everyone get sick of themselves sometimes?
im a lot to be sick of…
im incessant
i dont switch off
my songs n words
my bad reviews
my scornful neglect
my anger and my revenge
my guilt
my sense of hopelessness
my delusions of grandeur
my cancerous envy
my smart remarks
my grovelling insincerity
my brutal desire
my wheedling whining whinging ways
my stupid accent
my tedious addictions
my self righteous baloney
yeah
its all going round n round
on the bad days
on the days you dont see me round that much
on the days with dead crabs and squashed cockroaches
the days bills arrive
the days of refusals and overdue accounts
the days that are always slow and heavy
days when no ones home
days when no ones answering
days when theyve run out of the good stuff
and no one’ll lend ya a hundred bucks
and people are trying to find ya
dropping hints
laying on hexes n curses
changing it all around
laughing at me for being a fool
hissing at me for being a villain
clawing at me cos i was somebodys hero
hiding in the shadows n periphery
taking potshots at me
taking down my posters
taking my identity
taking my living out of my hands
black september
tuesday afternoon
minna arrives
nervy n jumpy as she is
shes so lovely to look at
ah thats just narcissism talking
its how you looked at 16 isnt it
now thats long ago
long long ago
in 1970
that was 37 years ago time being
since you were sweet sixteen
with your prince valiant haircut
n yer little blue mazda
all those days n nights that passed
like ripples on a black lake
minna with it all before her
you with it all behind ya
the glory days
the gravy train
the legendary glow of olde times
you never think youll ever be fifty said dad n laughed
now im sitting here with my teenager
i want to get through but i dont know how
a bit like you n me, dad, i suppose
you knew by the time i was ready to talk
itd probably be too late
and now i fear the same thing
everything i say sounds silly to a 16 year olde
be careful
be home early
call me if you need me
yeah yeah dad sure sure
now i got all this advice
no one can listen to it
now i got all these ideas
no ones interested
just when i came good
it all started going bad
when i became honest
i had to let sleeping dogs lie
blah blah blah blah blah
me me me me me
eeny miney meany mo fo
what else?
what else could there be?
funny how you chase one thing
you catch another
but we all knew that
didnt we?
already
nothing new here
but
im just sitting in this feeling trying to figure it out
sinking in the quicksand
emptiness is so frightening
nothingness
nihilism
no reason to be good or bad
no reason to show up or bow out
no reason to write
no reason to comment
no reason to answer my own questions
and the end?
it draws closer
the end of this blog
the end of this day
the end of this life
the end of ends
crawling like a snail
suddenly rushing up on ya
like it did for grant
and johnny lennon
and tyrone power
and ann boleyn
and shakespeare fading away by my age
and nijinsky who burnt brightly n then rotted
and manfred von richtofen who fell out the sky
and all the other dead-uns
thats the ground rushing up to meet ya
thats the edge of the precipice
thats the abyss, buddy
do ya like the way it feels
gonna have to walk that black corridor
gonna have to walk thru that storm
and lose everything again
but i still believe
that
after that
will be
the light

feeling lonesome and down
feeling like a cloud
trying to keep its shape
in a windtorn sky
feeling hemmed in n empty
feeling like hopelessness
colour fades from things
the light paints things bleached white
sea sick as i walk across the kitchen
the ordinary invades
with its symbols of threat
and with such a slight twist
things become sick and bitter
the various precariousnesses
who is underwriting my life
no one
where is sanctuary
nowhere
the monstrously loud clock
the repulsive dead flowers in their vase
the omnipresent bright blue sky
marks
chips
cracks
stains
lines
wrinkles
holes
ruin
rot
the spiders hang motionless
nothing works properly
the short cuts out long
the tea breaks broken
butter in the sun yellow ooze
faintly feeling movement
as if earth is trembling
as if everything is shifting
the flaws caving in
the collapse of the system
ugliness just about everything
ratchets whirr, hammers striking
inhumane machines tearing into our earth
its madness
i tell you
the sun will explode into darkness
the moon will crash down
people will drown in fire
the scalding oceans shall erupt
and its dark secrets will come up
on the dry land
driven on towards the cities
devouring hope and glory
the shriek of the wind
the laughter in the thunder
the hand that aims the bolt
god is unleashed
his name is chaos
expect the same mercy
as you yourself have shown
but thats….none
youve known its always been out there
an insane agony
a hideous energy
dogging our steps
monkeying in our plans
wolfing down our days
a vile thing
the last bad thing before you get to the good
a blasphemous filthy angel
a statue of a monster
a fountain inhabited by a snake
little eggs laid inside your scalp
eyeless worms burrow
yes the water burns
the water cannot quench our thirst
the water congeals into colours and wax
the water drips in gelatinous vertigo
the water inside us turns to dust
signals distort and interrupt
i keep dropping out
i keep breaking apart
i keep my hands on the wheel
and it spins n it spins
like all of reality
wants to vomit forth my madness
cast it out of itself
i belonged here
i understood how it all worked
i was up n running
running up that hill
pushing the future up the slope
and then
it ran away
wished away
picking up momentum
sliding headlong
premonition
illusion
feeling
ghost
dream
strange
ok

the futures fireproof
not at all like what i expected
i used to be a singer
a longtimeago
beforethewar
the war to end all wars
which war was it?
i was a singer then
in the mists of time
i sang some songs
then i moved into my new occupation
i review aphrodisiacs
for drugworld.org
i am the foremost aphrodisiac reviewer on earth
cmon you say
an aphrodisiac reviewer?
laugh if you want
it was around 2008
that they invented love-bites
a totally legal a-disiac
i used to write this column everyday
one day i dropped some love-bites
i was literally blown away
what were these new drugs?
who was making em?
the ingredients were fruit n flowers…
i posted an online review
its kinda famous now i guess
you see any idiot can cop a high
but not any idiot can describe it in creative language
i guess i was born to do it
anyway a few days after my first love-bites post
they contact me
would i review their products for them?
ok….
would i test drive aphrodisiacs and report in?
sure, i think i could handle that
the success of love-bites was amazing
my review got reprinted all round the world
suddenly the a-disiac market exploded
and i was its leading voice
next i did a piece on 4bidden froot
4bidden froot is a new fruit only aphrodisiac
fine tuned by new manufacturing procedures
a harmless but powerful aphrodisiac
its motto
makes lovin’ lovely
4bidden froot
what a revelation
people switched their tvs off when that stuff came on the market
people were buying that new sexlife jive
people started getting in the groove again
all those oafs who wouldnt know their libido
from a hole in the ground
all those frumpy frigid femmes hitherto unwanted
4bidden froot turned em all on
oh the pleasures to be found in flesh
and there was i
at the leading edge of the pleasuremarket
being flown around the world
testing and reviewing a-disiacs
now being finely tuned homeopathically
a tiny dose of lavender oil
a micron of lime
a tiny tiny amount of ginger
oh
you could lose yourself in love
people were foundering in their unanswerable lust
to sink into desire deeper deeper deeper
love comes unbidden all the time
my friend and i drift round this house
she lazily reaches for me
i stand back and watch
i stand back n watch my heaving back
i float up to the ceiling
and i watch the birds in the sky
my veins all open and are flushed with blood
my pupils are huge
i take everything in
and i see love as an art to be mastered
and i see it has its schools of thought
and its history and techniques
so i write n i love
i love n i write
now the lid is off the whole a-disiac thing
what could the govt do?
outlaw roses?
ban orange peel?
make it illegal to possess love?
now love is within reach of everyman
and people are loving it
love
love
love
buy some
try some
4bidden froot, baybee
ha ha

i dunno what to write about tori
she comes on in black wig n horrible clothes
shes touching herself…..there
indeed when she 1st took the stage
she proffered her bum to the audience
who men n women both went crazy
all night long tori was busy gesticulating
hand jiving as she hammered the keys
illustrating the songs with gestures
all of them sexual
toris hand strokes a huge imaginary phallus
tori wanks around
tori touches her bosoms n opens her legs suddenly
she turns around and again offers her ass
she writhes n twitches as she plays the piano
singing a naughty line
n checking out the audience
with an expression thats a cross between
elton john n chrissie amphlett
she is with no doubt an incredible player
make no mistake this woman is brilliant on the keys
the best bits are where it all breaks down
to tori in the upper register
her riffs going round n round
like philip glasses musical phrase-loops
she can sing too
but i quickly got tired of all her “operatic” bits
where she really takes off into the falsetto
the band is good but the drums are mixed too loud
the bass player is mellifluous
the guitarist is quite inventive
tori disappears after a while
n returns in a hideous green shiny outfit
that looks like it was in the bargain bin at st vinnies
and a long straight ginger wig
both wigs go right down to the eyes
covering much of her face
she can certainly play the piano from some different angles
but coming across more as a precocious kid
at her own birthday party
rather than the wild shooting from the hip hi priestess
she might hope for
whats wrong with tori?
the lights are magnificent
the sound is ok for the op house
tori jerks n writhes all the way thru
she does a sorta fairytale 2nd last
nk is rapt
but
but
but
(kate bush comes on pod at this point)
it didnt move me
why?
im asking myself at the time
it just felt like tori was faking it
an incredible performance
but all in aid of what?
of course the audience lapped it up
tho strangely muted sometimes
tori only talks once
and its the olde i love australia bullshit
the kneejerk crowd all cheer
is that all you can really come up with, tori?
in the end i left puzzled
nk thought it was great
afterwards as we walk through the quay
a couple of girls come up n say
what did you think?
it was ok i say
the girls seem surprised
oh really!
no you know…it was good..i mutter
actually i dont know what to think
there were some great moments during the set
but somethings gone wrong for tori
the outfits wigs n movements….WHY?
she was a lot “sexier” before…
if thats what she wants to be
now shes weird
like a rich eccentric auntie might be weird
not necessarily nice weirdness
and talking of rich
150 bucks a ticket
times 2000
times 3 nights
toris pulling in over 600,000 bucks from sydney
shes in a cocoon
no one can tell her shes being ridiculous
just cos you can play the piano
doesnt mean that you cant be silly as well
and thats how i feel about most of it
brilliant yet silly
*
the buzzz
this legal high
made from chocolate, orange, damiana,honey, etc
was
just like the real deal
but better smoother no hangover
a powerful aphrodisiac
dreamy feeling
oh everything feels so good
lasted 4 hours or so
woke up feeling real good
will be heading over to newtown today
for more supplies
as my cafe friend said
like the best bits of cocaine n ecstacy
without the chemicals..
fiendsss this stuff is good
and perfectly legal
i have no idea how they do it
other ingredients include
kanna
l-tyrosine
octpamine
saffron
h20
E10H
the buzzz blew our minds
this is worth checking out
n
dont worry
its legal!

weird note
tori came on ipod just as i was checking the spelling!