by Tomorrow's Man
The Tin Machine
Ever pull out an album you listened to constantly for years then stopped for whatever reason then, now, now, as you finally put it on again for the first time in the 1.5 decades since it came out, it takes you right back there, to the energy and balls-forward sharply cornered grin you loved to sport so long ago?
I'm wearing that grin, wearing it like a leather jacket draped over the chewed pinecone bedpost of a well-fucked biker chick, a leather jacket that smells just like my sweat of 15 years ago.
Confusius say:
"Mares may eat oats, and does may eat oats, but if Government give you one more Cheerio, demand Froot Loops!"
Had a job interview. They asked for an employment record, credit record, apartment rental record, drug test, and fingerprinting.
I offered to let them probe my anus for contraband narcotics.
I did not get the job.
I was just trying to be helpful; the woman said I was 'out of line.'
Funny; I thought I was toeing the exact line they'd laid down.
2:46 PM
My hallways smells like an Egg Nog Monster had a battle to the death with an Overboiled Cabbage Monster and the Egg Nog Monster won then ate the Overboiled Cabbage Monster. Then the Egg Nog Monster got really bad indegestion and subsequent explosive diarrhea; that, that last bit, that's what my hallway smells like.
I almost forgot about the birds. How could I forget about the birds? A mile of birds, a cloak of birds from horizon left to horizon right, small birds, indeed excellent birds, this was the picture, a thousand birds covering the mile beneath an immense double rainbow that made me feel like I was driving down a wrinkle on a new ringfinger.
One of those days with so many ups and so many downs that I can do nothing but know I am alive.
The clock begins to mean nothing; shards of plastic chasing themselves around a paradigm that alledges forever. There is no forever in a clock, or in the plastic arms embracing the chase; forever exists only in the eyes that possess the tick tick tick that the ears think the eyes are watching; forever is only the clock that never will ever stop; in other words - forever does not exist, until you yourself stop blinking, and keep your eyes on what makes the motion you are watching perpetual.
Matchsticks, matchsticks, hairs on my arm skin, sunshine lemon divine, platypus pickle grin, goofball eight times eighty speedball drug, knit a creosote bumbershoot for an extra tiny slug, Alouette scared Mog away with her creepy nose bridge, I got him back when Fletcher rolled my pumpkin into my bumpkin fridge, I hop on one foot and giggle at the totoro, spin with jello centrifugally and make a monochrome sticky rainbow, time to light a candle, smell my finger, cinnamon coasts the nail, and with a matchstick across my beard this invocation sets to sail.
Take the high road; take it right to the troposphere; but the road thins, the point grows sharper, and, inevitably, the ground erodes away, and it is just empty space, ice clouds, and the harsh truth of hard earth, waiting inevitably for you to make very little impression.
I love being out of sunglasses, without lenses, no contacts, sinuses clear, tongue tasting this air as the rain falls, delicately precipitating butter knives of fecund scent that permeate my head as they moisten the ground, I almost want to taste the loam, almost want to cry, but I think I'll sip this cocktail and inhale again, and again and again, swell my lungs full-moon-sized, again and again, until the sussurus leads me by the senses into sleep.
Nut in a Sexshell
pink, purple
giggle giggle
open, full
wiggle wiggle
empty, white
smile smile
sleep tight tight
tight tonight.
w A no time at all like t his ti m e S T ED IN THE W AST
HAPP Y W IT H LE S S AR OUND ELA
ND.
Confusius say:
"If one is what one eats, then remember to never let one become the Hamburgler in bad Kama Sutra afternoon with Papa John. No kidding, Joe; gas like Exxon."
I'm jazzing in triple time along this low hertz grunt of a long dead black man who blows like tomorrow never came, and here I sit in the middle of the future he didn't have, letting him remind me that tomorrow just doesn't matter a damned bit when the air is moving now, the sound is the thickness of the bloodstream, and the moon doesn't need tea shades to wink at the sun.
for John Coltrane
Confusius say:
"Remeber always where you wipe boogers, as someday could be a map to Paradise."
I imagined in a dream last night that Jennifer Aniston's nipples were gummi bears -- but for the damnedable life of me, I could not figure out the flavors.
My friend Boog, he smelt like that a decade 'fore the dogs found'im. I tried to tell them cops, but no matter, they just insisted it was them dragons again.
Cops don't listen to nuthin', man.
You can't stop me, Mister. Burn it down, burn it all down, you can't stop me. I'm here. To stay. Right here. Eyes open, pants maybe. I got coffee. And cards. I can solitaire til sundown, tarot til Tuesday, shuffle these decks til December.
And I don't need pants. No, sir -- I don't even need pants.
You're deal.
Sure, the courts suck. Cops often suck. There's no fighting city hall without gasoline. But - a gorgeous late summer day wins some of it back; especially when stopping for a fox in a crosswalk.
He wasn't wearing a cashmere vest, no monacle or pocketwatch was evident, he was on all four of his paws; but he sat there between the yellow lines patiently for me as I approached, watching me. I stopped and motioned for him to go, and with a small bow of his head, he did just that, trotting to the other side.
With a smile as I accelerated, I knew I'd beaten the officers in their cars and the judges in their courts, all frowning over the lack of a sublime day.
It's larceny, larceny that fills a straight man's heart. He lacks the potato, the carrot. He's short on those. The carrot of desire; the potato of progress. There's a lot to be said for that carrot. But I'm not saying it. The potato though, ask any Russian. They know where the missing puzzle piece of honesty lies. Not with the carrot. Nowhere near the peanuts. The jig missing from that saw lies with the potato, there in the ground and brown and growing eyes to see, that puzzle piece is just waiting to be fitted into your life.
You must find the potato.
tonight, with a smile on my face, I think I'll aim for death and - for a change - hopefully miss. I simply must get close to the power.
Began working June of 1983. 7,370 days ago.
Unemployed three days in 1983.
Unemployed three days in 1990.
Unemployed three days in 1997.
Unemployed today. 2003.
Maybe this is a positive trend.
Ego, supernew facts, bitter, breath. Treatise and coriander. This is today.
This can be.
Ego. fact.
It's your mouth, that's what's gotten the body to where the body is, not the air you push toward the plastic of the cell phone or the prayers you send to God- God- Goddess, it is not what I hear through the seven veils (six fallen) of hyperbole or social circumstance, it is the simple stance of a quite warm muscle a-flitter in a cavity that is keystoned by one of your many teeth, it is the prophecy that you masturbate out of the almost-full moon, it is the slight glance askance that grinds my hips into the future like a side of cheap beef into a McDonald's patron.
Yes.
Yes.
C'mere, Salomé. Let's boogie.
How can one truly dominate a cat, when one tries to dominate the cat and the cat...well...glares at the...you know, human?
i.e.;
ME.
Well.
I feel.... I feel like...lame meat. (Uninspired.)
I say to the felines, "What are you doing?? Be menaced! I am...menacing!"
Cats? They don't understand.
How dare you look at me. Yeah.
Like that.
Madison Notes
Someone told me, "I am quite impressed with you. You moved out to the Midwest and established a life without knowing shit."
I replied, "Well...I know a turd or two."
I thought it was...you know, clever.
[sic]
Confusius say:
"If what you put in toilet bowl causes big stink, affix label "$1000" and call it work of art."
September...2? When did that happen? I do not recall the memo crossing my desk, not the declaration awaiting my signature, patiently sitting there in my in box so I could ignore it and keep August around.
Fall fall, Autumn's here, but for a few dying dragon gasps; and this quick season I shall enjoy, though it seems to last only as long as warm darjeeling...ah, if only I could declare Autumn...infinite....