The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

fallen into shadow

theres a war going on said the psychologist it was at the sun cafe a war ? i wondered…. between men n women he said surrealism i live it like a fish lives in ether it was already twenty eleven the traffic oozed past we were rehearsing p=a all my songs are coming true i knew how to play a simple instrument i knew how to chuck together mysterious words i was a collector of beautiful things living things almost nobody knew the real me but some did all my songs are coming true an uncivil war between the sexys its all too much for your poor little head she became her own song the song became her a mere child at a time tiny baby so naive i cant believe what you believe yeah wow how prescient ooh whats going on i yawn rather would have been wrong look here it is exactly the song is a mirror 20 years too late i sussed can i smell vodka…? you punctured my tyres you crossed all my wires i brand your acolytes as a pack of liars and the fire singing everywhere i yawn everybody ultraviolates ya in their own special way as unique as fingerprints or the green flashes in a retina the opposition has its terms and agenda the gentle gender sooner or later they give ya an ambush no i’m still sitting at the sun cafe the psychologist munches on his bruschetta he laughs man its fucking murder out there six string bass and opium where am i ? who turned out my lights im gulliver but not that gulliver universe runs out of space sheba into delilah atom into dust on some different level a new opening on some other phase on some other older page the enemy trojans n whores deiophobus baby he was some cat tried to have his helen earth by the scamander river in some summertime the living was easy christ look at us all juggling our opportunities the endless suitors will never string my bow mistress next mistress chaos next chaos who wrote these words and for whom well i dont have much time theres so much left to take its hard to know whats genuine and whats a genuine fake but wait theres more what about this i think theres something weird going on something unforeseen the best impression of a succubus i have ever seen have you seen succubi steve says the psychologist the sun cafe gets busier n busier i have this shake made out of some exotic fruit last nights kisses have faded from my lips my anger scorched my feelings a procession of women and songs the women vanish into futures i have forgotten them sometimes the song remains as an echo the songs are not about you and me only honey though whatever that is presently escapes me never disregard the ambiguity of the word you you singular you plural we have known you and me  by the thousands i cannot bear to share you we cant be alone babys whos writing this stuff? insert your own pronouns here its mine its yours its every fucking bodies funny how eventually opposites become alike naturally alikes become opposite isnt that some genius who said that? i wasnt born yesterday but i was reborn last night you (plural) must think i (singular) a few songs short of a cd i mean cmon appropriate this i didnt wanna come here nowi dont wanna go is there some string attached to this as if you would tell me so everything is endlessly applicable everything must go amoral for this tale? i will continue to drift then i had one hundred babys and some hated me i had one hundred babys and some didnt care i had one hundred babys and some of em loved me so much it burnt us both funny how the end result is always the same though moonlight n fighting with the night its a rip off he asks you did you like my show as if he really wants to know he is me right you is you wrong in my reverie # 4321 i am standing on some stage dressed up in my tux singing strangers in the night the syrupy words curdle in my hard ass brain i spat out some of an old french poets bile at the sun cafe is some lady done up in a folkloristic get up she reads my tarot confirming all my worst suspicions there is much you do not know all your songs are coming true she says in her egypsy accent ride the rollercoaster for all that its worth live it all up to the hilt if you cant take it with you away from this earth might as well take it full tilt you thought you were white lightnin’ when you stole my thunder yes you yes you yes you yes you n you n you why cant i feel it is it just a lie we all get our next convenient rationale alls fair in love and war and well just about anything really in nebuchanezzars parking zone calls out my lord your end is nigh i didnt mean to make you cry there are gashes in my side project there are gushes of praise gnashing of teeth crashing of systems it all ends up in the same place lose something else you didnt realise you had find something out here again dont stare shadows in the smoke whispering everywhere beware an old flame is still smouldering there still umm……

raining in my heart

sitting in tims backyard

ring the newspapers ! i turned up early for rehearsal

sit here taking a slug on my apricot nectar

i still wonder what its all about

life is bewildering us all

totally sick of ourselves

longing for some non existent future

or some imaginary glorious past

but we are in turmoil

we are in freefall

we are out of order

a huge lizard runs past my feet

it is a lovely creature all coppery highlights

out here in the suburbs nature more rampant

kids play in the backyard pools

cicadas sing in the backyard trees

the weather is a sultry hot day

i drive a long way to get here

everything goes round n round in my head

everything simply everything

and of course any thing any old thing

in my head theres no one home as i drive drive drive

my falcon sings smoothly along bridges and into tunnels

people on a 2 decker bus seeing the sights

oh i wish i was them

to leave me behind empty headed in this car

i’d turn up but no one would notice the difference

i’d strap on my new borrowed crimson 6 string bass

i’d play paradox or kings

the words would come come come

rolling off  that machine that gives them out to me

my fingers would know where to go

my voice would be the same

ah but i

i am on this bus this double decker bus

and i’m a tourist going down the hill in kings cross

and im some lucky mother who never had no problems

who never got rolled no di-lemmas from the uni-verse

but that is the condition

the condition of entry

the condition of man

the condition of earth

we should be so happy here

you were once so happy here i sing myself to you

but who are you ……?

you remain unknown audience

you take it all in

you loved my songs well heres my empty head for you

you shake it around a little

ok theres a brain rattling in there

sloshing around in its own transmission fluid

gently bumping up against my thick skull

but theres no one home theres no one home

i’m finally someone else and ive ducked out for a minute

a pleasant breeze surprises me somewhat

i awaken from one embedded reverie

gulp down me apricot nectar

a man is whistling somewhere over all these fences

his whistle has a strange vibrato

birds also whistle in plentitude

im sitting under a verandah type type typing

funny how you get blown off course

you achieve the exact opposite of what you want

you make the mistake again n again

you go back to the start feeling finished

me ? i’m on that bus in the sun

the moment lasts forever

that lucky tourist frozen in time

no money worries

never been married

robustly healthy

having a lovely holiday in sydney

parrots alight on some tree eating the berries

the raucous squawking hurts my damaged ears

its australia its summer  its the bloody holidays

wind passes thru treetops

but at ground level it comes after woods

i long to sleep some more

i dreamed a strange dream but now i have forgotten it

gone gone gone that dream and i long to still be within it

oh to vanish away like smoke in the mirrors

my eyes hurt

my head hurts

my back hurts

ooh time for yoga i guess

put this headache machine away

and cool my heels in something else

something i believe in i guess

crest of a slump

P=A baby

king herod what a fucking trip

hey im such a liar

im in the ancient world here we go here we go

here we go

im crossing your alps

im almost in rome

my opium arrives in a little film cannister

it tastes like very strong black liquorice

oh i dream and dream

my six string bass

my whammy bar on the deep E

the whole temple is swooning

karins having elektra n miranda

but aurora what you doing here?

white powder white 6 white female flesh

youre shivering again after all that we been thru

my purple silk shirt i bought on holidays with donnette in thailand

she looked so weird on the beach at cosa met

god its chaos in my mind

i never wanted any of this

if i never see you again…….

my ferrari cruises through babylon

you know it does yes somehow its true

call me rabbit fighter

i alight from the platform in my usual uniform

and press yer space face close to mine love

my skin looks like i slept in it

im just a gift to the women of this world

and woman = man

and all is one

and in

distorted haze the zebras graze

with a coat of grapes on my back

loneliness is my cloak full of eagles

it was thirty years ago today

the killer taught the band to play

youre vanishing again

people round here say youre a witch

i feel anxiety in my neck

carthage is cool

the palm trees and temple whores

hey where can i change these roman coins

i spent all i had on smack n avoiding another crack (up)

down by the lush black swamps where mandrake grows

i shot my baby

oh you helpless birdlings nobody wants you

i run around im looking for you

why cant i feel it

i cant tell you but i know its mine

steve kilbey in 457 BC plays a B n a C

i trem0lo the low strings it blends in with other things

pyramids full of neros

baby call me little boots baby call me slim

the way of all flesh n blood

here i am on the edge of everytown

our destination looks kinda oh bleak

my frenzied cortina man you shoulda seen her

hub cap diamond stud smokin’ speed

in deed in fucking deed

its chaos

little piles of smouldering leaves

the ocean growing hungrier

smashes your watch with a hammer

caresses you off camera

summer in sumer was super i’m sure

gilgamesh synchromesh female flesh

i devour sacrifices whole

apollo appears firing golden arrows into the enemy

the fauna oughta equal the flora

and eve = aurora

and

priest = aura

(in spades!)

hi everyone

how are you

im rehearsing priest =aura for the tour

its hard figuring some bits out

this will be a short blog today

the weather is cool for summer

the kids come back 24th jan

please stop bickering in my comments

no more comments of a bickering nature will be printed

sk premium will start soon as we get some things ready

opera house on april 14 now half sold out

things are turbulent in my life and head

thanks for being here

thanks for patience n understanding

nothing you read here is completely true or false

i am the time being

love

saw this film called alexander starring colin farrell

ok

to me

and after all what would i know

i see alexander as this mercurial charismatic complicated cat

hes fucking handsome but hes weird

someone unusual someone you wouldnt meet everyday

hes a intuitive genius but hes also seduced by babylonian decadence

hes been taught  by aristotle one of the worlds finest minds

he is familiar with esoteric and arcane magic rituals

he is never unnecessarily brutal

he is courteous to his enemies if they play ball with him

he is an enigma

we can see what he did but we dont really know much about him

but whatever he was

he was something out of the ordinary

ok

now we have the actor playing alex

this man with his blond mullet

is the very opposite of everything i wrote up there

more like a footy hooligan or a member of deaf leopard

a total ham fisted ballsup

the music is atrocious

in indian rainforests when it all had gone bad

the fucking music if there had to be music

should represent that

the dislocation the madness the ruins of ecstasy

but we hear the same old star wars-y stuff

the 1850s english charge trumpets etc you know the one like in avatar

the things the people say are awkward

no one has the slightest conviction

a bunch of big name actors dressed up silly on  some location

the ancient world was not apprehended

alexanders mystique never approached

the sheer alien zeitgeist

the way it all went to his head

man this was a story to be told

but this is like a western with blokes in togas n eyeliner

they say old alex the g may have been gay

i guess he may have had some strange female -like allure

sorry colin  could never be gay

hes as butch as a meat pie

in the silly men kissing men scenes its embarrassing

mrs pitt is there as his naughty pushy mummy

funnily enough shes the only one talking in a greek accent

well it sounded more russian

but the sentiment was there

the others all speak with irish accents …oh come on!

might as well have made em all fucking aussies then

it just ruins the effect at least colins does

when he meets his conquered foes daughter a princess

i half expected him to say top o the morning to ya!

theres a cool looking guy who ends up on the end of colins spear

he looks like he should be in nine inch nails or something

so

all that money

all that history

all that magic

all that tragedy

all that destruction

all that decadence

and still

they couldnt get an even halfway decent film outta it

they shoulda asked me

seriously

it would have been a zillion times better at least

rating : an ancient turkey

the east pole

i have made this journey because no one else could

i realise that now

all my many  stops and drops and turns

wandering lost as a pathetic lamb on the lamm

the twin scourge of drugs and pleasure sexual pleasure

the fire of inflammable anger

wandering down an endless hotel hall

i forget the number of my fucking room

oh my god i’m steve kilbey i just remembered

i’m floating along past all the doors

and all of you are inside sleeping sleeping peacefully i guess

but i’m out here

and here isnt all that bad

here isnt a war or a hell or any bad thing

but oh i was walking through the desert

no it must have been the library

i was checking into my room i was so desperately tired

i dont recall the city somewhere anymore

i took my key from the non-assistant and levitated to 13th floor

it had been a big big night

smoked a plantation of jazzy jazz jazz

drunk champagne drunk whisky drunk mescal

i snorted something white i dunno what it was s’posed to be

fuck your morals

this is a true dream story blog poem fact truth lie exaggeration

i was a rock star i was a pig i was a gentleman i was a child

yeah i snorted a line of powder

the truth is i love(d) all drugs and i didnt care

whatever it was was alright by me

i was tired excited bored restless nondescript

you see i was everything at once

and complicating matters

agreed to these 2 fucking idiots filming me for a whole day

they were making a doco

they had already paid me

i had already spent it

now it was aftershow and i just dont know

they climb into lift with me

i look at em

i actually like em

the geeza is an ok guy but hes a bit thick

he never understands one bit of my constant stream of irony

geeza :” hey steve are ya nervous tonight?”

me : oooh i’m petrified

geeza : ” really??”

me : no man i’m fucking joking with ya!

ha ha ha

but neither of us never learned

i kept on with my tedious irony

he responded with his tiresome credulity

look what do you fucking expect alright its me

so we stand in our lift that is slow lifting off

and i look at the geezas missus or assistant or whatever she was

now it seemed to me she was giving me a bit of  eye

but i couldnt tell because she was silent pretty much

she was quite sorty too  you know a bit of a sort

sort of nice you know

but being a man and being an animal and being a spirit

well thats confusing i dont know how to act

i have no idea if shes looking at me because

a) i am a wasted strange sad creature

b) i am an exotic sex god from another universe

c) shes actually looking at my wrinkles pores and pimples

d) maybe shes not “looking” at me at all

e) shes nervous on the first day of the job

f) shes actually got some of my records and is a fan

g) i have something like parsley on my teeth

h) some other unguessable thing

its a weird situation or maybe i just imagined it

maybe i was/am so out of touch

cocooned in my own crazy paving life

my travelodge home my suitcase full of lead

my ticket i couldnt find

i had plunged into hedonism i was deep in amnesia

was this yesterday it seems like it

in my life as if under a spell

someone seems to have edited it together slightly wrong

no that bit isnt meant to go there

so i’m standing in the lift with the stupid filmers

the nice guy who doesnt understand me

i dont understand him either but i dont wanna fucking film him do i?

and the woman/girl/ assistant/ sorty sort

a real good sort

the more we look at each other …

well i starting to think she is definitely looking at me

staring defiantly at me and definitely moving her lips

a series of pouts smiles tiny movements all rapidly gone

if the geeza notices this he doesnt seem to let on

hes busy filming it i guess

the assistants got the papers and wires and bits n pieces

we get to some room someone eventually lets us in

hes pointing the camera at me

fuck man i’m really fucking tired now

i have something to wake you up steve he says

yeah ? i say

he produces a little glass thing

out of somewhere he sprinkles some crystalline slivers

here he says

i take a big hit

fuck!

i take another

fuck!

i take a few more

fuck!

fuck!

fuck!

oooh time is gone all curvy and delicious

ooh how did i ever get to feel so ….oh warm as this

and oh no i like myself

and fuck what a nice room this is

and wow a guy with a freaking camera oh yeah i wanna talk

oh yeah baby i wanna talk my fucking head off oh yeah

oh yeah man starfish oh fuck oh yeah

im gushing a stream of bullshit and bilge

oh wow man you dig under the milky way?

oh wow thats so cool you like that song

i dunno if the geezas had any of the stuff

but the assistant is certainly indulging

shes taking a deep hit

the white smoke slowly oozing outta her nostrils

oh man shes gone from being a good sort

to an extra good fine looking pretty gorgeous sort

now for some reason this kind of good sort began to make me feel devilish

not totally evil terrible devilish but still not a particularly nice devilish either

im mean im a fucking working class bloke made good as a rocknroller

i got no fancy education i got no airs n graces

i’m a fucking man and i like fucking women

i cant help it no more can i help breathing air

and im sitting here looking at the assistant

and some very wicked delicious lecherous romantic thoughts

she passes the glass thing back

i sit there puffing away on this stuff

it doesnt really taste like anything at first

nothing at all

and then you start to discover its subtle flavour

yeah there it is as you exhale this surely poisonous breath

im waxing loquacious about some lyrics i wrote to the geeza

im feeling real good real real good

so good in fact im not even thinking about it

the gig the journey the flight the time the years the pain

well they all seemed to vanish into some long gone past

before i was sitting in this oh so cosy groovy hotel room

with my mate the cameraman the unironical geeza

i watch the assistant get up n go out of the room

it was a condo type gaff  i was sharing it with someone else in the band

after a while i couldnt tell

i was raving like a typical foolish me

blah blah blah blah blah fucking blah

oh my my my

in the middle of a sentence the assistant comes back

shes uh changed into something more uh comfortable

now shes dressed in some straps

yes thats right

like the outline of a bikini but only the straps

no fabric

her breasts push through the straps

the straps go round her hips n thighs but theres no fabric there either

just these thin black straps

shes looking very dreamy

like shes sleepwalking or something

like shes venus just born from the shell

like shes just found herself in this room dressed in straps

much more naked than if she was actually naked

the geezas filming filming filming

i briefly wonder somewhere in my mind

is this a good thing this filming filming filming….?

oh fuck its too hard to think about stuff like that

here in this cosy little condo style hotel

with this pseudo lux furniture and groovy anglepoise lamp

the assistant is dancing to some beautiful music in her head

shes not that graceful but she doesnt need to be

shes sort of floating about like a big fairy

except fairies arent dressed in straps

i notice too she has decorated various parts of herself with lurid  lipstick

well you can imagine which parts i hope

some parts purple some pink some bright red

now i never asked for none of this

but here it is its happening

(filming filming filming)

the assistant finally comes over to me

i find im sitting there without me shirt on

its getting warm in the cosy condo hotel style room

she squats  at my feet gazing up at my face

her pupils are like black plates her skin is flushed

she gazes longingly at me as if i am jesus

or somebody nice

but im not somebody nice

the camera filming filming filming

the geeza seems to fade away

i guess thats what good cameramen do

they blend in

they do not disturb the wildlife as they migrate and mate

the wildlife feels comfortable with em eventually and does its thing

but nevertheless filming filming filming

my my

oh oh

mm mm

the girl is sitting on my lap

shes whispering something in my ear i cant understand

its in another language i suppose

shes wriggling against me

when we kiss its like a whole universe pours into my mouth

the female principle in her chemistry goes rushing through my system

im a man

im a series of chemical and electrical reactions to stimuli i encounter

i was encountering this and my system was responding accordingly

the kiss seems to last a million seconds

her mouth like a succulent fruit

after that things became blurred elongated truncated

i noticed all my clothes were gone

god i was feeling good

it seemed so logical

and still the filming filming filming

he never said a thing i heard

in spaces of seconds the assistant kept transforming

she was a child she was a panther she was a comedian she was a whore

and wow

daylight eventually was breaking through a window somewhere

and we were still uh engaging with each other

we were acting out little scenarios

i was being cruel to her

then she was being cruel to me

then i was being oh so unbelievably nice to her

and she was being oh so unbelievably nice to me

and she was nice

and she was so beautiful

and she was so female

it made me angry

and i’d be cruel all over again

and i was saying all the worst stuff

praising her to the high hills

and then calling her the worse names

every name except her own which i heard once n forgotten

and so on and on and on

you can imagine

if you can imagine then imagine some and then some more

i found myself taking a long hot shower

when i came out my film crew had gone

it seemed as if they were never there

fuck i felt rotten tho unbelievably aching n confused

i took a sleeping pill i had reserved for a long flight

soon i was in the black void of nothingness

i woke up that night kinda groggy but i did my gig

fuck i musta imagined the whole thing

it faded from my mind

half of me liked it

half of me hated it

it was nothing

it was gone

it was ephemeral

fair enough

anyhow got a dvd in the post the other day

ok wonder what it is…

oh

oh!

fuck!

sydney sky erupting in fireworks

didnt go to a party cos i wasnt feeling that up to it

and hadda skype the kids

its been a bad year for me n kids but not as bad as some

some people had worse years than me thats for sure

i’d like to sincerely thank these people in no particular order

and confer upon them my new years honours

kip mcc : fantastic host n friend revolutionized my web sight

john cole : cool as all hell

johnny tehranian : cds on their way . thanks again. see you in la

kevin keller : i say amazing too often but kevin keller IS!

davey rundle : cmon dave, lets be vegetarians this year! i love ya man!

ricky maymi : one day son this will all be yours . DAVID NEIL!!! YEAH!!

martin kennedy : too nice too talented too unbelievably good! kk2 coming WHITE MAGIC!

glenn bennie : i love you ,gb3 and the undies , ok? good!

jeffrey cain : caino you rescued my mid year slump. isidore will rule!!

holly jordan : i have such a soft spot for you …what? i am working!

sue campbell : i want samoa!

jemal n moksha : thanks for messages n for your great version of invisible!

my melbourne girls yeah you know who you are …mm, m, ap, bsk et al

annakki mayhem : great 2nd book w/ churchy bits too

lloyd n the church army : shoulders in the cause

joe seg : opera house : made it happen

audiences on aussie tour : not a bad bunch of gooseballs

readers on this blog : i love ya all (except ……)

someone i forgot for sure…

oh well

see you tomorrow , next year

waste a money

sunroom

sit at the lights its a hot fucking day

the radios all blare the mobiles all a’ringing

the future is experiencing compression

i just sit there dont i

part of the jam happy to be a part of it

all of us with our bits n pieces of paper

registrations bills receipts letters of resignation

still the sun beats down the sky is royal blue

fuck i gotta headache tho

i felt sick for a day now

my eyes swimming behind the windshield

my trigger happy feet revving the angry motor

my tanned brown arms with slightly blond hairs

my poor old mind which wont go into fourth gear

fuck its christmas isnt it

what the hell does that mean

im stuck here at the intersection of the boardwalk and neptune st

i see a woman i know crossing the road dressed in a bikini

hi steve i see her mouth through the traffic

she waves kinda sadly as i drive off

there is some kinda electrical fizz and crackle from the overhead lines

i dont remember much from certain bits of my childhood anymore

maybe ive just invented most of it anyway

the shops all having sales

please dont ask for credit as refusal may offend

something biting in and out of water

in the car next door some pretty senorita stares ahead

shes so busy shes so determined to get there

the lights change we zoom off

the background rushes by

the sea the cliffs the spectacular cemeteries

its christmas i have to remind myself

i pull into another lane and join another stream

many things flow thru my mind

the beach is packed

tanned locals and pale europeans

we wonder what drugs we will buy for new eves eve

we wonder what combinations we will try

we wonder how bad we will feel the next day

the sea must be cold i guess

i feel it vicariously through the road

the road is hot like cake

christmas cake melting in a sullen afternoon heat

christmas stretching back and back into directionless nothingness

christmases forgotten better not ever to be remembered

and thats it

the traffic stretches on n on

it doesnt matter where you going

its gonna take ages to get there

macbeth in bondi

roll across hill roll across dale

a free spirit at christmas tidings

the unexpected thump of  exiting chemical ooze

the languid days under grey haze

the night creeps in so stealthily

i hardly notice i’m drifting downstream

all the people have gone again

evening brings nostalgia growing up a column

light is saturated bright yellow and flaring with doubt

crimson ranges overlapped

the blues are anchored in the edges in the margins

at first the white discolouration appears to mimic some beast

it blossoms into some insolent nude crouching in amongst the darkest flowers

she seems to smile before we realise we are looking at a cloud

a bird flies across it like a rent in the fabric

the audience comes to an end

we are all dismissed we must disperse at once

out i go into a world a steel coloured blur

where are the fountains where are the statues

surely zeus has intervened

the thunderer is woken in fury

while his cow eyed wife meddles here on earth

it feels like the weather is fading into nothing

a black drip runs down the nights page

creamy shot of slim milk

sudden taste of alkaline vanilla

a murmuring sound like distant monks

i wake up kissing a mask

holding on to a bottle of holy green water from the red sea

the roller glides over wet paper waves

sea weed presses down alright impressing the painted currents

the cellophane fires crackle under harsh theatre lighting

our lines are all mixed up

i appear to be speaking your part sometimes

my costume has been bathed in some water based light

i am camouflaged against background all freshly hung in strips

i leaf through a book of trees

i choose the wrong trap door

everything that happens is encoded in information

a face at a window a voice down a line

my time has expired on the screen

my credit is not sufficient to be of any use to me now

talking to girls look like its fifty years ago

like they sitting in some washed out past

while i hang in the black future

dotted by foam like stars

viridian lines move in ripples through your island mind

the peninsula ends in a bay full of vicious fish

the river brackish in its sluggish tug

the rotting hulk of a horizon decays in the absorbed impressions

a really symbolist moment complete with a slight bleachy halo

i watch a landscape form in convulsions

i touch the limited edition flesh and shrub rubbed up my place

its verdant after all that rain

the debris glitters in sparkling gutters

argent flotsam

jetsam golden

the toys now come alive in the shops

as i crawl into bed

already asleep

dreaming up the dying days of this year

hermit of north bondi

the male fire penetrates the female earth

the elusive ether trembles above the submissive invisible air

the water as rain

falling falling oh falling down

no one would believe this life i dont

the morning wakes up  and says im sore!

the night says why, where are you sore dear thing?

the morning says everywhere

tiny cold drops on my skin blow in thru the window

i type type type because that is what i do

the rain becomes insistent but what exactly is it insisting on

i remember deep in the night of love i remember how lost i was

i must be stumbling round in my own head

i cant believe the things i hear myself saying

at least im indoors at least im just dreaming

the cool rain is real but nothing more

steve kilbey is elsewhere

all of his voices get to roam free now

we jostle forwards demanding a platform

we start to kick up a clamour

we insist upon the gory details

we weasel and connive and we wriggle about

christmas day is over it exploded behind my eyes so pleasantly

at 3 a.m. i’m in a dream dressed in a towel

the street is very very quiet

not a breath of air the temperature is perfect

the future around the corner

i move thru darkness like shark

in my mind i see red

swimming up the blood dimmed tide

but in my strangest dreams i am the one who is bitten

on film i see my shoulders tense and relax

still i move thru the dark summer air like neptune come to life

down by the frothy shore the wavelets danced to their own tune

and the old stings of monstrous jellyfish suddenly flared upon my belly

the salty night air all pierced now with rain

but i never finish what i’m saying

wendy says you got lucky

i say why

she say because you got luck

but i wanna know where luck comes from

i wanna know where luck is and i

wanna complain to luck about 2010

i imagine luck is a fickle fickle thing baby

i imagine luck dont hang around forever

the ocean at this hour is a revelation

i fling down my towel i stride into green water

i am dosed upon some inexorable dream drug

i hurl superlatives around

as the water closes over my saintly head charybdis pulls me down

fathom after fathom

down to that lovely sea bed where the sea witch wait

oh shes an alien thing as she emerges from her cocoon

oh shes stranger than strange, stranger

oh she comes out of her place like a shadow slinking down a street

she murmurs something into a shell

she draws a symbol in the sand

she sees you then as you wait your turn

sees you on the infra red

sees you on the old sixth sense

sees you naked in her sea

with a drug upon your spirit

and a drowsiness upon your life

and in candlelight while you drown

the vortex spits you out at the bottom

i thrash like a little lamb to wake up a little

you want to hurt me but it will only hurt you instead

the night is full of floating stings of long gone scorpions

the night is so sleepy the night is so still

oh listen the rain has stopped

the rest is easy

the easiest thing of all