"just talk about love, or ***, or starving hearts, or just shut up
and I'll go

but" - Jonathan Richman

(..NIGHT)

A drunken man is blown by bathroom paintings,
with shower curtains displaying crowned sparrows
who laugh at his
crowned ****!
and humor his life!
also crowned
(but only subjectively if you were to ask anyone else)
I'm a burning insomniac surrounded by a whole cast of characters tonight, including the one with with a lazy eye who mirrors Chaplin
and arrived to the party disoriented from recent Salvia.
Then there was the one with a sleek current-edge-type haircut
who spent a few good minutes telling me about the film works of Philip Glass
            B E A U T I F U L
They play Bowie,
the whole social palette disintegrated beneath the weight of intoxication.
I, too, am dazzled from pale alcohol already (eight minutes past Midnight!)
The Dancing Athlete ambiguously dances on an absent television while my head hurts from a blue bulb glowing from a nearby lamp because it's too late for all this
and I'm reminded that I know almost nobody here.

(...AND DAY)

Maybe thirteen hours later, walking with Dante the bearded dog,
my friend wheeled a stranger, narcotic-vacuum-cheeked amputee.
He begged for light, as in a lighter, not that light of GOD, no no,
all the while he showed off his stub leg (cut off at the knee) bleeding out all over the sidewalk when his accident first occurred.

"THIS GUY THREW ME FROM THE BALCONY!" he preached

Past the cathedral narcissus
"JESUS COME/
JESUS SAVE MAN/
JESUS MAKE FIRE/
JESUS WAS A HOLY INDIA"
Across the street, village of enduring tombs and firesmoke,
shadowed tent outlines
breathed-in
playing cards and tricks
mandolin reverberations among tents and tents of
sickly or addict, all listening in on the live performance, a blessed Alice with dreads, lively chords emitted from her skull of ideas.

The forgotten noose of man ****** in a parking lot
by a liquor store, while we pick up some wine, which is, and I quote here "DRY AND CHEAP"
A sunny quiet perched on the field
of gleaming downtown streetlights
thru thinning clouds.
Olympic mountains in view, the kind of mountains only seen in magazine articles to be experienced by those unafraid to die.
All these sad people out here, too!
Their faces expand beneath capital industry,
Elephants occupied with jackets sewn in an anonymous factory.
Quick tip, I wanna write it down before I forget: don't listen to that old music when you're feeling lonely, it's all about love and especially in tragedy this is a bad idea.

I'm sick and wept and my teeth have been growing cameras,
the youth are dressed in drag, carpet cleaners bob their heads to unheard tunes but you can see the sound thru a glass window.

This city, oh, this city..
with bodies sprinting hard by each other and who bike across train tracks associated with very vague childhood memories.
We all float on hands electrified by the night!

Jonathan Richman tonite, who's vocal deliveries have been honest
and romantic, in a passionate sort of way.
He's singing that live track "A Plea For Tenderness"
(I know you were waiting for me to get to this)
and past few days have been strange
and past few weeks stranger, still. Not as bad as a lot of people but man, strange..
that night, and day.
Walking by the Victoria Hospice care center and looking down on my wrists which'll soon be tattooed with loving hands yet oh
so
aggressively pained by abuse because of a terminal disease and attempted suicide (NOT my own life, to clarify)
and it got me thinking on how we're all mutually getting thru this place and every face has seen hearts and seen death almost equal.
It can get to be too much, that's why melancholy has been defined to begin with. But ******* Jonathan Richman had to make this song.

"if I'm better than the wall
(tell me now)"

"Because it's dark at night
and I'm alone at night
I'm so sad and I'm so scared"

Things I've said in my own head and felt in my own time
as has everyone else. I don't mean to specify that this has happened RECENTLY, but it's definitely happened before. These times.

"now, I've just read some writers
from the old days
because I knew, I knew that they'd understand"

but BUT everybody is accidental!
even Rimbaud has stubbed his toe and I know that it'll be fine
it'll be fine
it'll be fine
in Vietnam maybe
and it'll be finer in Varanasi
(maybe-r)
but for now I don't know
I can say it I can try and feel it and understand it and pretend I know it
I gotta get away from people to be replaced by a Hindu I've never seen before
and sleep on a mattress that (like a new pair of shoes) hasn't grown in to my spinal chord and hurts ****** bad at first and is unfamiliar and the weather is warmer than usual
and the horns of traffic will be frightening but that too, will dissipate with time.
I gotta save up my money and hug my wallet like a starved cat
Jonathan ******* Richman's "A Plea For Tenderness"
what a fitting title
for a time like this one now.

How brave are our fire brigades?
As they battle bushfires each day,
Yes, it's summer in Victoria,
Not exactly the Waldorf Astoria,
For all the fire brigades,
Our respect they've totally gained,
Laying their lives on the line,
When the weather's too hot and fine,
Burn, Victoria, burn,
El Nino's torrid urn,
Our noble defenders each day,
Real heroes in the news, I say,
As they battle bushfires today,
How brave are the fire brigades?

Desert rocks in desert sand that seem to encompass the land,
Barren empty space of dust, lust in cacti and souls of the lost…
Amorphous figure emerges from the land below-
In ethereal appearance, and celestial glow.
Enraptured is the ordinary soul by inexorable beauty.

It’s hand outstretched and welcoming eyes—
Enchanting me to believe his guise.
Ineffable experience being by his side,
For a moment trapped in time I was alive.

Hand in hand and love in eyes we made a vow to share our lives.
So quick it was and never ceased, to amaze me in a world of tumbling white sheets.
The sea of sheets, on that first night, took me to the world of light,
Skin on skin, eye to eye, lips on lips, three words slips
From mouths who claimed eternal locks, And here were are bodies in knots,
Intertwined in mind, and soul and all, and now we fall.

-deep
-deep
-deep
Into a world of beauteous intention,
Music, light and love had all our attention.
I loved you with the moon and stars, I loved you for all you are.
I was the only thing you need. But bizarre complications and me you heed-
No regard for.

Hands flung, for a lover before,
And my heart fell to the floor,
As you stood aside and let abuse occur,
All of this you did for her?

Now I realise, that the desert was your guise.
You were a mirage, and had no care,
For the Lady who was always there.
Eclectic reasons for leaving you.
Yet, celestial glow, you glow from afar.

I have never felt this pain before, entrails by my feet,
Heart still throbbing in your blood stained hands,
You have no understanding of all this, that you have caused
You have no idea of the kind lady you lost.

I see your soul, the pervasiveness of its beauty.
Ubiquity of love in your soul,
But on my life you’ve taken your toil.
I cannot be but a milk-maid in a Joycean script,
For I am the words that make beauty lift
From the page.
I’m not the bird inside the cage,

Remove yourself from upon my door,
And like the Raven you said nevermore.
Remove your heart from inside my chest,
And you think you can defeat this test.
Remove your pain, from out my life,
I promised you once, but I’ll never be your…

Persistence is key, that’s all you know.
Forget the Raven, and I’ll let you go.

Dear Victoria,
Where did you go?
Why did you leave me?
My heart has gone cold.

Dear Mindset,
Why did you come?
You tell me I'm worthless,
Useless and dumb.

Dear Victoria,
I need you back,
Without you I do things,
My soul's turning black.

Dear Mindset,
You've changed this child,
You've broke my jawline,
And stole my smile.

Dear Victoria,
Right now, I am lost,
I'm confused, worried, doubtful,
My wrists pay the cost.

Dear Mindset,
You've ruined my life,
It was you who told me,
That salvation was in the knife.
It was you who began my now grand addiction.
   Thank you so much,
   Love Victoria x

look at them
cattle being loaded in tricolor wagons
"Mind the closing doors"
the shepherd says

headless chickens trying to find a seat
bulls butting the walls
everyone is scared
they fear that the dog next to them
rips them inside out

so they just pretend it's fine
it's time to read the Evening Standard
let me show you my new iphone
I've been playing Candy Crush Saga
and I've become pretty good at it
you know?

The next station is Victoria
said Hall 9000
that's where I got off
and left the rest of my comrades
they are building a windmill in East London

and me?
I'm just a donkey
I don't really want to get involved

When the sun first shows its beaming face,
at the break of a blissful new dawn.
Your birds that exult with elegant grace,
bid farewell to the night that's gone.

Your flowers ornate your vast lands,
of your priceless treasures they boast.
The besotting Kilimanjaro that stands,
dominating your east coast.

You are home to the best precious stones,
the land of gleaming clear waters.
Garnished with skills and strong bones,
you are served by your dutiful daughters.

The soil that expands on your gracious vest,
the equator that cuts your enormous chest,
birds that bear your golden crest,
are a few ideals of your daring zest.

The treasured soil that fills your vast expanse,
the gracious finesse in your every dance.
From Egypt, to South Africa, Nigeria to Kenya,
From the stupefying Sahara to the beatific Victoria.

I love you dear Africa, The land of the wild,
This poem is for you from your little child.