posted on February 10, 2009 at 8:19 pm

our stupid blog no one ever groks
our stupid blog with its thousands of names
our stupid blog justifying nothing
our stupid blog signifying whatever
hey listen you
why are you reading me?
howcome i aint reading you?
hey im the slipperiest one
hey i hold 4 kings plus me makes five
what are you holding?
one shabby queen three sixes and a 9
or ?
i dunno
i make anything mean anything on here
i juggle time
i wriggle out of death
i suckle vipers at my bosom
my sacred calves propel me forward to my doom
everybody trying to bring me down
trying to break my fucking crown
steven..does it mean loyal or royal…i forgot…
yeah i was a kid once
you shoulda seen me
cruel n horrible…oh things aint changed much
i get so much conflicting advice
i get so much disinformation
they all chatter chatter chatter
like the birdies in the trees
suddenly my children tumble out of bed
voluptuous nine year old spirits
aurora like some northern italian goddess
and beltane eve like an oldtime princess from connaught
they come in and kiss me
oh god i am real…after all
in bondi its dark cold and rainy
the kinda day a mad olde hippy idiot
could slip into some dope induced reverie
how hes this n that
some ancient whatsis come to life
the only renaissance man still kicking tiny goals
some lancelot du lack
some christian wolf
slavering after his rosy crucifixion
and snarling at the bastard moon
but really
i’m as gentle as a little kitten
with a big rat in its mouth
and i’m as gentle as that fluffy cloud( which is full of hail)
and really
wont some great patron step forward
and provide me some Great Comfort
i cant afford the air that i breathe
both my kidneys will be repossessed friday if i dont pay up
and jesus
cocaines gone up to a thousand bucks a pinch
i have no car i have no engine
i have no washing machine
i have no antelopes with gilded horns
i have life certainly
maybe too much or too many
but c’mon
life is a temporary thing
and ive moved into my time-on period
and fuck
the rats ARE running faster this year
and i cant even remember
that i am a man in a mansuit
being dreamt up by maha vishnu the preserver
while his rather attractive wife the goddess of fortune
soothes his sleeping brow
i digress
i know it doesnt matter what i really say here
you read in whatever you like
as you rush down yer corn flakes
and hurry thru some blizzard
or real casual in some franchised cafe
knocking back yer long black n yer short white
ooh pay yer mortgage
ooh pay yer palimony
ooh pay yer taxes
ooh pay for yer kids hap kiddo lessons
(but wheres my subscription then?)
oh my oh my
i knock out 3 thousand word articles on songwriting
i paint a gallery of past lives
i imagine buddha down in the city on miracle street
i swim in the cold icy ice bergs
an olde olde digger
(to whom i am a bit of a kid)
hey steve-o
howcome the fuckin water temp is 16 degrees
in the middle of summer?
i say
i do not know o olde n venerable swimming digger
perhaps verily
yonder continent antarctica
is really melting down
hence all this cold water…
he says yes
yes youre right
this world is saying
ive fucken hadda nuff of youse cuntz!
and the good digger
with the rude vocabulary sauntered off to do his thing
i swim in the cold almost deserted n violent pool
(a description of yer humble hero perhaps?)
i have found borrowed stolen a new pair of gogs
with yellow lenses
and i feel like i swim thru a giant freezing berocca wee
the waves pound down
seaweed sand n jelly fish
decorate your scribe
i retire to la baby pool
where i do my breaststroke (ooh errr)
and practice my crawl
in the sauna
i speak of many things
whether pigs have wings
why the sea is boiling cold
but mostly cabbages n kings
there was no one in there listening
i am i said
to no one there
and no one heard
not even
my towel
then i said
i am i am i am i am i am
the great god pan is dead!
a man looked up from his newspaper n said
oh do shut up!
i walked home listening to all my new records
the church
davey neil
and a few records of nineveh bops n boogies
i channeled during a thracian bonging session
(we bonged nepenthe cones with ambrosia sprinkles)
so i listened to myself
singing all these new songs
chortling with delight
because i couldnt focus in on one word or note
so wrapt up in the misty dark day
that swirled around me
like the underworld
and i thought
i wonder how my dad wooda liked my new songs
n i wonder what kathy’ll think
when she hears em all say i gone mad
probably jus’ laugh
and i wonder why
why my sister married that south american magic realist
and i wonder if he ever read my story
i sent him
about a reincarnated king priapus
who comes back to this sci fi world
of computers n simulation packages
and boo-teak hotels
and bottles of water that cost ten dollars
and scarlet kilbeys
and west virginian women
and scars n xrays n credit cards n hollywood endings
and recriminations
n regrets
n oh sorry i got carried away with myself
and i keep on writing songs
a guy says yesterday he could write twenty songs a month
are you kidding?
i could write twenty months a song
i could sing the body electric during a power cut
i am i am iam
voice in another room : there he goes again
i am almost outta time
therefore i have too much time on my hands
you can see it
tick tick tick but never tock
i remain
i am the eternal
we all are
we all are me
we are
we are
we are
baybee can ya frickin’ believe it?
we are we are we are
ok you had yer fun
now donate some money
and go back to whatever it was
you were doing
before you red
this loada olde tripe

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