Archive for December, 2012

A song of Praise for Gumbytron


English: A short-haired hamster (named "E...

English: A short-haired hamster (named “Egbert”) sitting in its owner’s hand and eating a piece of carrot. Français : Un hamster mangeant un morceau de carotte dans les mains de son propriétaire. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

OK, the first verse is a chorus and the rest well you know.

Kinda cheesy but hey!

she gave the hamster freedom, will,
their planet she did carry,
she asked for nothing, nothing still,
was fond of Curly, Moe & Larry

she heard one night
of such a plight,
the plight of the earth dwelling human
she tarried not,
packed up her twat
and bounced toward the fire a-zoomin’

shelters o’er here
casinos there
not a light in the eyes of one human
looked by the size
but  zombies and fries
need an a-bomb? call disinfect Truman

no a-bomb she said
just bury the dead
and she cast a peculiar pallor
across, apace,
that great son’s face
she was known for her cunning and valor

coming hither
going tither
the humans all huddled and bonded
twas Gumbytron
who saved the sun
and gave back the joy twas absconded

all humans here
all hamsters there
rejoiced in her beautiful shadow
were filled with awe
from what they saw
they loved her and not cause they had to

12.14.20..12

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Merton the Misfit Mutant


Official logo of London Borough of Merton

Official logo of London Borough of Merton (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

song Lyrics I wrote on the bus from Knoxville TN to Cincinnati OH

Merton the Misfit Mutant

Merton has a secret he doesn’t share
The other mutants know it but they don’t care

He has no superpowers among his genes
He saute’s mutant noodles in his Afro Sheen

Mer-r-r-ton the Mi-isfit Mu-utant

He slithers kinda slowly along the street
He has to slither, see, ’cause he’s got no feet

He’s Merton the Misfit Mutant

No he can’t fly
he can’t trance
he can’t melt your face with a single glance

He’s Merton the Misfit Mutant (quickly)

He can’t read minds or make you dance
He cannot tell the future in advance

He’s Merton the Misfit Mutant (quickly)

Mer-r-r-ton the Mi-isfit Mu-utant

07.15.20..12

Agnew T. (Goldwater) Pickens

He’s just like the human beings in his town
He baristas at the Starbucks at 5th and Mound

He’s Merton the Misfit Mutant

No he can’t fly, no he can’t trance
he can’t melt your face off with a single glance

He’s Merton the Misfit Mutant

He can’t read minds or make you dance
He cannot tell the future in advance

He’s Merton the Misfit Mutant

Mer-r-r-ton the Mi-isfit Mu-utant

07.15.20..12

Mantucky Dreams


carousel_09343

carousel_09343 (Photo credit: original_MikZ)

transitory hallucinations and double indemnity fantasies
permeate the cracked edges of Mantucky Park .
condolences to the padre, they padlocked the confessional
and now he’s on the street harassing passersby

two crackheads stop to hear him absolve a homeless drunk
and ask him if he has any money
he laughs and waves them away

the meters along Main Street run backward fast

the parking Nazi pulls out her ticket pad
in anticipation of red flags popping up like poppies
to the music of the Carousel repeating in the distancethe Greek slings his Tadziki and Falafel near the corner,
his line of customers often three or four deep.
seems like the only thing recognizable as food
beneath the Christmas lights

there used to be trolleys
running the length of Main
but they were all pulled up long ago
a lot of the buildings still stand
they make a feeble attempt at a downtown

just a husk,
the Gazebo in the park is lost in ghost whispers
of yesterday

a panel truck makes a delivery at the Mechanics Bank
like it has every day for the last forty of fifty years
some things don’t change

there used to be two Coney Islands downtown
a paradox that no one seemed to notice in Mantucky growing up
we believed we were immortal
would do anything, try anything for a good time
in Jimmy’s Lounge at 16 and 17
eating and drinking whatever came our way

just husks, now, like downtown
seed all shriveled up and dry and blown across the wind
seeing the promise
(more like the lie that we believed)
in younger eyes

how would they know?
no one talks about it any more
let them keep their dreams
while they last

to dream again
and not soak our livers
in rivers of whiskey and drugs

to breathe again
like taking the a breath in cold December

if only…

That Scratchy Smelly Itch


Map of Ohio highlighting Portage County

Map of Ohio highlighting Portage County (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

It’s spring 1995 and me and Knight Chris are heading up to our
apartment on Thurber Drive when we’re accosted by Dave 14.  I
recognize the look in his eyes as he asks me for a couple of
dollars and say, “Come on up.  Nothing’s too good for you boys
on the front lines.”

Dave 14 follows Knight Chris and I up the stairs to our third
level flat and follows us into the apartment.  I can tell Knight
Chris is a little concerned as he leaves Dave 14 and I alone in
the small living area we share.

I invite Dave 14 to sit down in the high back chair opposite mine
in our little command center.  He sits and begins studying the
matrix board I’ve been working on. I say, “First, I’ll have to
sign you into my log book,” and I pull my log out and write his
name neatly on the first page.

“Would you like to smoke a joint?” I ask.

“Sure”

We share a stick of some good hydro that an ex-girlfriend’s new
love is selling.  Dave 14 takes the first drag and passes it to
me, holding it all in.

“Nice expansion…” he says as he blows out a cloud of smoke.
“I heard you were roadkill on the internet,” Dave 14 follows.
I’m somewhat taken aback by this new piece pf information and
think back for a moment.

Ah yes, the weekend after Thanksgiving, I had gotten caught in a
time warp and had wandered off in my car looking first for New
York, and then Eden.  In fact I had abandoned my car beside the
highway in Portage County and had a vague recollection of me
somehow having been run over in a car driving video game on the
newly established internet.  I feel none the worse for wear
knowing that I have been dead for almost six months.

Dave 14 takes another swig from his forty and I say, “You can
take my place here any time you like.  I look him in the eye,
almost pleading for him to trade places with me.  He seems to
be caught in a little time warp of his own as I think about
my father and Knight Chris in the other rooms and never seeing
either one again.

He mutters, “Wha—?”

I reply, “You can take my place here any time you want, you
don’t have to leave, I’ll leave.” The time warp seems to eclipse
Dave 14’s senses and it looks as if he is reeling.  He rises,
shaken, trembling and says:

“I have to go,” and staggers toward the apartment door.  I let
hi  out reluctantly wishing he would stay and take my place.

I would visit Dave 14 later that week in his little outpost he
shares with TC underneath the overpass across from my apartment.
He seems perfectly placed among the cardboard boxes, cans of
food and empty forties.  He introduces me to TC, another soldier
in the war, who, Knight Rodney tells me, is still living near the
underpass to this day.  I never saw Dave 14 again.

you


a new poem

 

you
with that amorphous grin
like the fuzzy channels on TV
what?
can’t hear that through the haze
a hamster running in a maze

you
with that cherished malice
like the silence of the Lamb
on this subject?
haven’t got the stomach for it
too late to forgive or forget

you
with those crocodile tears
like the last man hanging on the mantle
where art thou?
doesn’t in the least bit matter
seek another God to flatter

12.08.20..12

 

Reading on SoundCloud

 

Lamb

Lamb (Photo credit: freefotouk)

 

find the voice


find the voice?

when i find the Voice
to tell my story
to the clouds that crowd my skies

they will laugh at first
(perhaps even roar)
and gird themselves in heaves and sighs

they’ll laugh so hard
that tears will fall
but when they finally realize

there was no Voice
there was no ‘i’
and that’s their dark surprise

12.03.20..12

original

when i find my Voice
to tell my story
to the clouds that crowd my skies

they will laugh at first
(perhaps roar)
and gird themselves in heaves and sighs

they’ll laugh so hard
that tears will fall
but when they finally realize

there was no Voice
there was no ‘i’
and that’s the greatest surprise

12.03.20..12
Stevemas Day

from here to fatuity


from here to fatuity
there there Mary
it’s alright
all you can eat
on every fucking corner
shouldn’t get you down

it’s fucked
i know
but hey
we have each other

the children
well they should be
grown (groan)

i think

12.06.20..12

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