You tipped the musicians $20

It was like a movie from the forties

A restaurant in Tangiers

 Sometimes you need a break

In the Casbah of Tangiers

You have a paraphrase

Driving a stick shift in Spain

With your mom and sisters 

To a mountain town

You bought a tshirt

That says Allah

 Perplexed

Binomial allusions 

Dressed in rag tag hippie garments

Who is the mother freak?

What is the path to the golden road?

Nah I'm just a regular person

 Silent 

Not unlike a smile

Radiating 

I was at a concert

 I'm kind of hungry

Maybe some tuna fish?

Why do they add the fish?

What kind of tuna is this?

TUNA FISH!

 There was a-plenty

Some went to Spain

Drank wine 

Looked at olive trees

Thousands and thousands

 I tremained the Johnny all-wood

Apple butter for everybody

Seated in row C 

Of seventh grade 

For fighting a Revolution listening to an old woman read

A shitty book

 I have a mind

Like a desert

Filled with cities

Burning at the ends

I am the crow

Ca-Caw!

 Palou- marsh

Symbiotic lesions of legions

Red with long rifles

We of the three corner hats know Tyranny

But who are we?

 I'm not Europlenty

I've dissolved

Into the Iroquois marshes

The acme axe speaks a language now spoken

In concentric circles of destroying

We are the 

Somebodies

 The buried Scrolls

In a desert cave

Leaning to Gnosis

Were severely rejected

Like Henry Miller's

Tropic of Cancer

Or the like the Colossus of Maroussi 

 The Blight Confirmity

The acceptance

Of God's Will

      The broken tablets 

       

 

 I was 

Like the buried dead

No name on the gravestone

       But buried next to me!

    Oh buried next!

 Kalamity brains

In a side street decay

            A ligament

                   Aligned

My thoughts of years gone

                             Near a Chinese restaurant

        The Hang Ah Tearoom

         Down the alley

      Near the playground

 I had a middling 

It was in a bar in Oakland

A lady was making cocktails

"Try this!"

 The Burdge 

Is tamara 

Steam yr ass

Sweet sumpin

An humpin 

  A bumpkin 

 I'm suckered

There ain't no tomorrow 

There's barely today

Life sucks 

And it's all my fault 

 I have everything

And it's nothing

Too much to deal with

I wish I was free

 The gated disaster

In ruinous cadavers

The heart bleeds

We are forgotten 

Until forever

 I hurt a wooden plank

Sad tho it were

It's paint a peelin

Did it have feelin?

I was not sure

 There were no empty sighs

Oh Lord

Put upon me 

Mr Harbrow

Oh let me live

A tides morrow

In a red plank boat

 I dreamt a hardy tale

Of savory pie

The morning fog

Upon my brow 

I cleansed my face and hands

The bitch was yelling

As usual 

I fed the hogs 

And chickens

And the mule

Roscoe 

Was it a dream

Upon visiting the gravestone

To be put upon by a convict

From the hulk?

I carried a file

A pie 

And rum

Towards the convicts colic

And returned to the gravestone

 The pins were played

In the mountains

With pints of ale

They clacked 

We laughed 

All night long

 3 guys in a tub

One was lazy

One was crazy

One was Ralph

Rub a dub dub 

We sank the pitomaine

And crossed the Alps

By day and by night

Rub a dub dub

Rub a dub dub

We hoisted a banyard 

And created a canard

In a loose barnyard

The chickens ran amok

There was no tub

So cleansed in the sea

We deloused and a plenty

We stoked a virulent steam

Rub a dub dub!

 Time forsook the albion 

Across Roman ties 

In green felt

I wandered the dewy morn

 Time emptied out

The Saturnalia

Of histrionics 

Pie eyed 

You sat 

On the edge

Of  an edged wood flooring

And laughed

When I lifted it with a 

Toilet plunger

 I was king of nothing

So I cried

And ran amok 

Thru the battles of Brattleboro 

And bloodied

   And worn through 

I wore a three cornered hat

  And a Batman t shirt

In Virginia

 A Rose

Is a skeleton

Holding roses

And laughing

 It got pretty hot

Somewhere else

It was pretty nice 

Here

 There was a Blarney Stone 

In my mind

You kissed it

And your dreams came true

 I was the magistrate of the universe

I decided everything

You're guilty!

Fucking assholes

 I played for a while

In the lost land of pizza story

With pong

And pepperoni eyes

 I couldn't own a pretense

To a major scale 

You didn't know what C was

But it was all good

Once we got to know each other

 The perchance

Myriad Greek carnivores

With stone mustaches 

Carried the whistle

Into Pleiades 

For the islands 

We're dangerous 

And the currents were rough

 Please the please

Don't stirrup me

Long legged ball players

Of the seventies

Like Johnny Bench

 I've got 99 reasons

But I'm still hungry

For a chili cheese dog

And a coke

 Tolkien wrote out his best works on a bed

The academics scorned his literary novels

 Down By the Riveters River

Oh Catskills

Blessed are the Pawnee

For they held peace

And I was a lonely woodsman

With many scalps

Look into your heart!

Or not

Elks lodge #97

 I

Managed

A purple Swine tooth

Prosaic

Envelope

The details were in the Gods

So fuck em!

 The creature with three heads

Was nowhere

He didn't exist

At least I don't think he did 

 A Drunk Explosion

Le bateau ivre 

Well a drunken boat

Rimbaud

 The Breach

Speaketh like a twine explosive

"Come hither"

What's a hither?

"Oh shush!"

Channel 4 exploded!

 The entwined

Sprague the kchrstal

Below a reverence

Behemoths waltzed

And we were with the birds

But still no results 

Of fortune

Time had its share but

Wanted it all

Gravity said 

Hey what about me?

Black holes looked on ominously 

 The Gratix

Sat like a pontoon

On the hibiscus

Clear skies! Tonight!

But the river swelled and syruped 

The Gratix looked about. 

If Eeyore was here he'd know!

Or something like that 

HSB

Analyzed

"They have a mountain of privilege

But are unwilling to climb a salt shaker worth!"

Eeyore said oh dear

And looked to Pooh.

Pooh was busy with a pot of hunny

 A perpetual turmeric

What's that?!

Breathe samosas

And don't wear linen shirts? 

 The Mo/oon 

Sang a sad song

All night long

 The passet 

Entwined in future plagues

      And knots

      You buried yr mother

        And yr face

                         In piles of clothes

       Worn by an Uncle 

       Who lost half an arm

                          In a milk toast accident 

      In a Swiss town in Wisconsin

 

 I planned

A derivative

                     Of mud and worms

 Everton

Moorea

            Brinks

The hearty

Plume

      Of Macaw

     Tourage 

      His hands were covered

          In dirt grease whale fat

        We drank white wine

     And ate croissants

     In a 54 Chevy

 A newton ride

Not a fig

More like a drop

 Sentimental

I was sad when the gas ran out of a purple lighter

How could you desert me?!

I guess I was kinda like Jesus

Oh Lord why have you forsaken me?!

Maybe that's a bit much

 Across the Moors

I brought a shepherds pie

And rum

To help the convicts colic

And a file for his leggings

In an old graveyard we met

The fog was thick

I heard he was doing well in New Zealand

 Another sight of Bigfoot 

In the Pacific Northwest

Bigfoot got a job at a Wendy's

Times were tough

 A Car-toon

Ride that hemi powered

Glass packs

Rat Fink!

 Some tried

Some were in Modesto

 Morning drunk worry

Trying to go back to sleep

Isn't always easy

 I was a pony on a boat

No I wasn't

Sorry 

Pretty good song though

 An epitome 

Characterized the moon

Until we warped 

An ellipsis

Hey!

 I was a frantic episode

So were you

So what?

 There was no yesterday

Until Tom Waits 

Came along

 A peanut M&M

Is not you

So stop it

Unless you're yellow

Then by all means

 God

Is like dirt

It's fucking everywhere 

And it matters 

If you're a worm

 I had no hope

But there but for the grace of Doug

Go I 

 Movement sad

Like a tuned everyday

Spread the butter

On French bread

With a glass of white wine

 A cretin

Fled the monkey sigh

Seize the articles of craftsman architecture

And wander thru

The burnt fields

Reading a book by no one

 I hafts the dram

Oh flood

My town

Your boat is my dream

Profiteers away!

 I write

The wrongs 

I sight

Songs

Of Bobby Hebb

Thank you for the love

 Proust said

But who read that?

Did you?

 The ice nine dream

A Vonnegut

Told a story

Of the end

But we're all here

 Some walked

The Jabberwolk

Some strolled

Some fold

Some call yr bet

 U could be

The sweet lemon custard donut

U could be

A maple old fashioned

U are

  (Don't be an anemone in the sea)

I lived in Peru

 U lived in Peru

   We all lived in Peru

      Reality is relative

         Was any of this here?

Oh give me a break!

 Don't be an asshole

Easier said than done

When confronted with reality

But in the end who gives a fuck?

Everybody.

 Clean

The righteous 

Own God

He is their Everything

We are nothing

 An erudite

Placenta

Drove 

Toward Malibu 

Fuck the poor he said

As his tire went off the road

He was found in a Calvin Klein shirt

An anemone on his face

 The affluent

Drove a new

Shit turd every year

With blond dyed hair job

And cheap shitty croissants 

In a paper bag

 Please

Let the voicemails begin!

Somewhere near Indiana 

We're calling...

 A dream

Could not 

Wary

The fragment

Of turpitude 

Or a bileous 

Moventous 

Decrepitude 

 A hardened Seminole 

Was not embraced

By an alligator

Or relived in a tuxedo

By the centric cosmonauts of tomorrow 

 There was an excursion of fiddles

They took the school bus as a group

They were excited to be out of that over heated school

They saw a bunch of sculptures by Rodin

But the best thing was when that girl fiddle lit her skirt on fire

That was weird

 I once had a Blofedt friend

I didn't know James Bond at the time

He was called something else

I think it was Timmy or maybe Jim Jim

Something like that

He wasn't very good at reading

But he excelled at Jai-lai

I had no idea what it was.

 I once knew some elves

They'd cleared a circle in the forest

And I found a felt hat

They weren't happy about that

They stole into our house while I was in California

And took the hat 

But I did get my basketball 

And that's all I really cared about

 Those days are done

Normal is anything but

Try to turn a knob

You'll need a 4 3/8 hat made of baryllium

A diet of laundered meat

And strychnine beef

Several caps to "pop in the ass"

A modicum of Hosteds Cherry Pies

And blacktop roads from here to there

 

 Green Vikings on another planet

A cask of mead and an axe

Was all Bjorn Bjornson needed

To decapitate the alien Wurm

"Fucking gross"

He said covered in green slimey alien blood

Across a broken Moon face

Don't expostulate

Like a worm

In the skull of a ram

Wait what?

The triads were simpatico 

Yeah don't fucking do that 

Are you hungry?

 Jesus wore sandals

And they got stuck on the gas pedal

And he ran over a family of four

He said Jeez

Oh wait that's me!

 Do you think there's a "God"?

If so what's his address?

I need to send him a letter.

 He wore faded jeans

Once he had dreamt of hand sewn patches

But those days are gone

Like a certain 63 Ford Fairlane

That we once sat in for hours

Parked behind a big rig 

At the edge of the suburbs

Tripping on purple acid

 Is pizza good for you?

I hope not

And we'll go into it later

 The Greed

In some cases it was okay but

Blah blah blah

 Look the Fuck out

Or you'll get run over

By a big ass ship

Fuckstick!

 The Fog Horns are Blowing

On a July night

It's clear out 

But those fog horns are loud

The Fog is in

The golden gate

Look Out!

 I thought of a new title-

Henry Miller in Big Sur with 

A Confederate General 

And Jack Kerouac

Jack thought women destroyed men

Henry loved them

Edward Weston lived in Big Sur

He made a beautiful photograph of a green pepper

Jack avoided Henry because Jack couldn't deal w reality

But he was there and he drank red wine and he drank too much

 I took my pills

I paid the rent

To the same address I've sent the money

Since 1992

I moved in in 1988

SSF CA 94080

"You don't pay enough!"

Haha I pay the rent 

 Sprogue 

Entwined Argus weather

He stood on a rock

Balanced difficutly 

The sky was a myriad

Triumph of days usual cantankerous meals

Like no one he appealed to 

The senses

His clothes

JC Penny's

Polyester

Caused the lightning to wince

He thought

If I had gone to Stanford

I would have made Molotov cocktails 

But probably too scared to do anything 

But hide them in the apartment bushes

 Across the Hazel mat ritual

We got up in the morning 

And had breakfast

Then

We went to work

"Do you have enough for the bus?"

"I was gonna..."

"Here."

 When Spinach was illegal

The Authorities knew best

They could not, would not, allow rampant

Spinach consumption 

They knew the old pop eyed sailor myth

Yeah "I yam what I yam!" I fucking get it

We won't play that game, Bruto!

Et tu Caesar salad?

 What are you talking?!

Spinach? W mushrooms? Brown rice!

With Butter?!

OMG!

 

 I had a thirty foot necktie

But I am a midget

Oh no wait

DWARF

AH fuvk it

Let's dress up as Hasidic Jews

We're closer to God!

 Alien ships?

Not on this planet

Fuckstick

 On the eve 

Tomorrows another day

They say 

But we are the future

And what do we know?

 A quiescent montauk 

Driving looking for a place

To get a sandwich

 A protracted delivery

Babies were born to the 2nd Sun

The sky was the color of blood

Artichoke hearts filled their mouths

We the People

Know the best!

 I had a dream

It was round and full of fat

It had eyes like an octopus

The reams of forgiveness were not in the Vatican

They were in shoes in Paris

If this makes sense call now!

Operators are standing by