posted on January 21, 2011 at 5:45 pm

Lou Pole

you always know where to find me

hidden behind these shabby doors on some suburban street

through the dirty windows on the first floor

thats me sitting at a big glass table under the red clock

sorry cant seem to focus my thoughts

i listen to some lazy music that drifts in the air like a smokey dream

its friday night its summer

the birds coo and call

the blinds gently knock against the wood in the breeze

american tour coming up soon

it seems a galaxy away from where i am here

wasting my precious time doing nothing as evening falls

children come back monday yes i have missed them

they come back in time for me to leave

yes its a bit of a wrench

my brothers will watch them for me while i’m away

theyre in good hands

after 2 weeks rehearsal my ears are ringing like all fuck

i can only imagine what this tour will do to them

if you ever meet me you will find out that i’m now quite deaf

my eyesight is shot too

i feel increasingly isolated from the world of sight and sound

i encounter it now dimly

i still cant get over everything that happened

my creativity has shrunk to a pea

i squeeze out my blogs on sheer willpower not inspiration

yes thanks you can give me a few weeks off

but maybe i need this more than you do

i eat a muffin with jam for tea mmm mmm

the truth is i dont give a fuck about food

im happy to have cornflakes for  dinner everynight

the gourmets on tv and their gluttony leave me cold

so i sit here at 616  precisely typing to you out there

my mood is bitter sad tired anxious

my body is rundown achey listless restless

my spirit is silent buried somewhere within me

it says nothing

it offers no guidance

my past stretches out behind me oh what a life i led

the wheels turn round

money women success come and go

children suddenly grown up and distant

yes this great song i wrote it really meant something to ya didnt it

time charges ahead at one minute per minute

but its all so relative

lie in bed enervated watching that hand go round

old pleasures come back as new pains

those perfect white scars on my back

what did they do to me?

maybe i been tampered with

maybe i just aint been tampered with enough

well 2012 is approaching like some rough beast

slouching towards bondi to be reborn

things seem awfully raw these days

things seem like we’re braking metal on metal

i am my own worst enemy that i never seem to overcome

i dig the pitfalls i tumble headlong

my holiday left without me some time ago

it booked itself into a little room

and it  played cards with shadows of departed guests

its very quiet right now

only the sizzling wind thru the treetops

only the faintest sound of the traffic on old south head road

only the ringing ears which have finally drowned out that clock

only the lapping sea which i cant hear but it can hear me

yeah an american tour uh wheres that….?

oh i forgot for a moment where i was

yeah i’m here in the kitchen

its 6 38 now how about that

i gotta get off the computer

i gotta rest my poor eyes

maybe i’ll go for a walk

down by the shore

its summer

there’ll be lots of people about

and everything

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