Bold neon lights shine
Bouncing curves off a urinal
Known to Cisco on 46th and Vine
While you shake the sanctum of my ears with a better word
With causal sensations that should be written down
For recitals by coke swiggin' swine
Of how BUddha was a manipulative fuck
And I piss out the HOly
The good only thing of Worth
That is and is of ME
Shootin' it up
Goya's spine
Words in the spaces sprawling off news paper sheets
Bought and sold yesterday
By pinstriped fish fried mongerers
Swinging to a 2/4 beat
If nothing else
You still ain't got not shirt
Cause you got no shoes neither
And 2/outta/3 beats
2/4 beats
If you wanna dig a well
For Goya on 46th and Vine
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
making and unmaking
One is all Japhy Rider and his shirt is off and he's on one of the kitchen chairs while I cut his hair, and the other reads from some book he found on the floor, which he keeps saying he was reading on the chair while I was quietly tidyin or maybe he was quiet, and it's about realism and realists and the ways they get it wrong, the ways they make and unmake, and meanwhile
I've got hair between my fingers and they're wet and I'm ridin the high and mumbling along with Dylan and thinking about how I'm making and unmaking right there, cutting hair in my living room and I look across the room and say "This is so Carolyn Cassady," and he looks across at me and smiles cause he sees it, and then frowns with his eyes and says
"Stop stop stop you're makinim look like a chick," and I spin around out front and brush his bangs out of his eyes and I'm patting his cheeks and saying "No, no, you are just so adorable." And I keep going and the one in the other chair says "Stop stop, look at it man," and
the shirtless one is just smiling and happy to be alive with hair to cut, cause it's slowly going away in a way more obvious than the rest of it, and he doesn't care, doesn't give a damn about his hair, he just wants to get to know some tree in the park, and use this high for good things, and make a life that lets him have a hidden away cabin somewhere in a compound of cement or something, so that he can keep on this journey without having to worry about the kids or whoever, so that he'll be the same in 25 years as he is today in the middle of March, cause
today, in the middle of March, this haircut doesn't give a damn, and won't bother making up its mind either way, making or unmaking.
I've got hair between my fingers and they're wet and I'm ridin the high and mumbling along with Dylan and thinking about how I'm making and unmaking right there, cutting hair in my living room and I look across the room and say "This is so Carolyn Cassady," and he looks across at me and smiles cause he sees it, and then frowns with his eyes and says
"Stop stop stop you're makinim look like a chick," and I spin around out front and brush his bangs out of his eyes and I'm patting his cheeks and saying "No, no, you are just so adorable." And I keep going and the one in the other chair says "Stop stop, look at it man," and
the shirtless one is just smiling and happy to be alive with hair to cut, cause it's slowly going away in a way more obvious than the rest of it, and he doesn't care, doesn't give a damn about his hair, he just wants to get to know some tree in the park, and use this high for good things, and make a life that lets him have a hidden away cabin somewhere in a compound of cement or something, so that he can keep on this journey without having to worry about the kids or whoever, so that he'll be the same in 25 years as he is today in the middle of March, cause
today, in the middle of March, this haircut doesn't give a damn, and won't bother making up its mind either way, making or unmaking.
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