i haven’t presented a poem for a while, and as it is a sunny Fourth of July weekend here in new york, i figured this gentleman would do. this entry is section 1 of a longer poem, as you can prolly see from the title. i thought it a bit much to post all of it here, but let me know if you feel differently. cheers and enjoy the celebrations…
2009.05.01 – night 1
i act like a monkey
and can’t control myself,
orange tulip petals on everything.
i burnt down the brooklyn bridge
then climbed up the charred concrete remains
and read ginsberg’s kaddish from the top,
but i got bored after one line and stopped.
the mississippi can’t make up her mind.
why won’t she die already?
ryan adams can go fuck himself.
i miss sitting in the center seat of the canoe,
i miss slow mornings that last for weeks.
what if i lose my fingers or my precious feet!
some girl’s eyes make me want to leap
through the closest window and the come
down drowns my saning mind.
photo by Thomas Hawk
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on saturday i went into the night with a jacket full of song lyrics and a growler full of beer, and headed over to a friend of a friend’s songwriters’ potluck. more of a songluck than anything else. the music was great – ranging from a folksy sci fi song cycle taking place 300 years in the future, to a tune whose words i couldn’t make out but everybody seemed to be singing along to, and one about a bear and an otter in different decades of their married life together. peculier indeed.
Lyrics from The Lion For Real:
There’s a lion lying by herself
Beside our open bedroom door.
She gazed up at me with
Those rheumy yellowed eyes,
I screamed out Lion For Real!
And I rushed out onto the fire escape,
Looking in I noticed it withering away,
And when she coughed and wheezed,
I cried Eat Me Or Die!
But she stood up, roared, and limped away.
If you walk in and find me wasting away,
Will you still hold me in your arms?
i sung two of my new songs – “The Lion For Real” (whose semitheme comes from the eponymous Ginsberg poem) and “We’re All Disappointed”. though i’m not usually one for singing my own songs, i enjoyed the evening thoroughly. i also played an old tune from 1947, “Cigareetes, Whusky, and Wild, Wild Women,” which I had first heard from the Low Anthem.
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