Fancy Weather: October 2007

Unconquer the tepid tulips of yankee quislings

the bar-b-q'd embrace of an employer

their sheer goddamned fucking ARROGANCE!

the workers' lawn mown with regret

the forests and fields, me and fruit and other beasts and even certain household appliances

moan with regret

fortunately, there's a factory in Illinois spitting out catholic schoolgirls

mama cass and the hungarian trumpets & so what?

a cigarette is not exactly a trade union

but it is sometimes the beginnings of a trade union

I've seen people catch cancer just crossing the streeet

a cigarette is always a tiny tree

yuppies hate cigarettes

but old people love them

because know they are inhaling a tiny tree

and that a new pack of cigarettes is virgin and pure

..............................................................................................
........................................................................................Thanks, But I'll Shit This One Out

...........................................................................................
..............................................................................The Horses Are Coming Down Violin Road

d

Modern Times (another slide of Bob Dylan)

i love to watch soldiers

i love to watch soldiers undressing in the moonlit frost

whilst never leaving their god of albaster

their plumage of India nitrate and star village heroin

i love to watch sad soldiers clambering over the barrels of their feeling-guns

i love to watch soldiers carrying their elephants over my alps

with their vast genitalia

and how their eyes shine in a darkened mirror

how they can turn on a dime and write letters home a little too quickly

their Charles Mingus way of irrigating the countryside

i love warriors with hammers

and hunters with knives

i love the way they squeeze me into a tiny box of rainfall

as they carve out their nation of air

i love Tom Waits when he moans and groans and chuckles

i love the way their work is never finished

.

Tom Pained On The Upcoming U.S. Elections

Well, well, and we fell in, the giraffe went to school in a bombed-out bus, and the hairnet of cobwebs took a long time to spin

when Cinderella bites her toes, she recalls Santa's motorcade

There is a tangerine in the heart of Africa, my love, and a hairnet of oysters

A yellow suitcase

I then tried to slash my wrists with bits of brown earth

I often look at chess-pieces
and wonder at their village of love

a boxcar of wobblies knit their sleeping-bags into my eyebrows

Mr and Mrs Comfort selling candy around the racetrack

but liberty, the human color

must invade the trip-wired cage

Two weeks ago I saw Alice oozing out of my left shoe, which I immediately picked up
the way God loved the first worm, with his tongue of incredible stone

a long silence followed those murders

a long curve tucked behind an idea

fish fish fish skateboard

my knife is drumming on a bone-handled continent

galactic fruit invades the music-hall of hats and feathers

the bread now cut by runaway scissors

rock beats scissors

the deer are looking rather frazzled this evening

a New Orleans cobble-stone is sneering at its lamplight

and the moon is at the bottom of a cup

sign in for the unwashed leavened bread! sign in for tequila in a morroccan frog-pit! your escalator of vanity is convent-ready, where queen fortuna washes bob dylan's raggedy blues of smart-ass grace we will place medusa upon your table of stars, cat-head, woman-head, blind egyptians vanquish the floating mirrors!

kneel jupiter storm-driven! eskimo'd wineglass

broken trail of insecurities!

kneel wineglass crunched under the fascist boot

rise fallopian tube wish-list!

down path of spikes slides tiny doorknob

undeclared father at nightfall plunders the frigid cot

helpless rigid totem-pole spins madly on clothes line....

neighbors are shape-shifting neanderthal monsters . ....

The greased king of phantoms on cliff-edge pounds the touristic brains of residents sorrowful bracken i am nosing in

As Fiona at No. 26 with her amazing bathroom never sold me, supine grace

As my un-great grandfather never bowled me, You have to look after your elf

in lake tranquil's rusted auto dump, the reptilian bishop shuffles his playing cards

sleep well the fairies of my future

one finger is the twin towers in the shape of an un-mailed easter egg, in the pink corner the crowd observes a ship-wrecked whine-seller. The third one's out to lunch. It's all mud.

In the car-crashes of an opportunistic moon-blue jump-suit, sits Bozo the Clown

Aka, The Great Turnip, in high heels

Sugar-bowled, and Brazilian. The kind of river you wouldn't bank on.

And pouring from his ears is a curious ballooning debt.

There ought to be a whore

There ought to be a whore against that tree, officer!

Isis oh Isis, you're a mystical child.

When I was 5 I had a vivid dream about a caterpillar called Henry. He climbed up my bum, and he's still there. Once I let my dad fuck Henry. That's how much I love my dad.

........................................................................Myself And 72 of my Hot Virgin Friends in the mineral springs of Pennsylvania. No, I don't know how we got all those pillows up there for that pillow-fight! As you can see from the erect nipples attached to those supple breasts, it was quite cold.

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..............................................................................................Puppet Master

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.........................................................................................He Walks Amongst Us (The Candyman)

.......................................................................................... .Alice

.......................................................................................I'm Just Trying To Get My Kid Through College

...........................................................................................Every Time You Tell A Lie, Jimi Hendrix Nose

.....................................................................................................Medusa Gets A Haircut

............................................................................................Alice Recalls Her Meadow

boring anecdotal comment: several years later Lewis Carroll met Alice again,

and noted in his journal, "I found her much changed."

***

..........................................................................................I Got A Little Involved

...................................................................................Wedding Reception

.................................................................................You Are Grey, Blue and Orange
.................................................................................If You Lived Here, You'd Be Home Now

..............................................................................That Was A Stupid Remark

....................................................................The Animals Have Entered The Convent

..........................................................................This Is Where I Get Off

............................................................................I Wouldn't Want To Scare You

..................................................................................My Ex-Boyfriend Has A Gun

.....................................................................................Future, present, Past

.........................................................................Come Down and See Us Sometime

......................................................................................Everyone's Doing It

..................................................................This Picture Looks Good. But Could It Survive An Arguament?

...................................................................Alfred Hitchcock was Swedish. The Geography of Innocence

...........................................................................Piccasso Was A Rich Bastard. And He Wasn't as Good as Me!

...........................................................................................Voodoo Funeral, North of England

..........................................TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT..ThT
................................................................................The Martian Sociologists Couldn't Believe Their Look

I love children, but I can never finish a whole one.

She was a real show-stopper. I said, Bad night, I've been a wonderful audience.

What's the capitol of Hope, Massachusetts?
Don't know, never been there.

Call me a visionary.
Call me a utopian dreamer. And it won't be in our life-times.
But I can forsee a time
when blondes, and brunettes
can live together, in harmony, side by side
with me.

Even God said, Fuck you, you're on your own.

what did Dylan say, about "the old folks' home, in the college"?

Tongues are furniture waiting for music.

Dignity is the opposite of need

There's a lot of ginseng in China.
And there's a lot of money in Paul Allen's cunt.
And the lumbermill is still standing
and the roof is still sloping

She worked graveyards for Jet Blue.
She helped to get all the wheelchairs onto the aeroplanes.

*

Well, I guess that's the end of the show. See you at the VA Hospital
Thankyou all for coming.
And to those of you who didn't come, thankyou for faking it.

(Clap your hands)

Oh, it seamed stockings there's time for one more:

Jealousy is hope

A lemon left in the sun is famous for borrowing tulips to cover it's private parts, which are stored in a bank in Oklahoma that Jesse James overlooked as a small child saying to his mother "My cookies have destroyed the bridge to the next century, & now all I have is a horse-stirrup, and 16 golden princesses will ride on my back forever."

They disguised themselves as Bonnie and Clyde.
Just in time to get massacred.

All the space in the world.

A bra is for homeless gerbils to sleep in.
They also make excellent hair-ribbons.

Merlin

Found.

And I was a blue-bone castrated whip-sword
I am woman.......and the purple braids of my river have lost their plastic pipe
now I face both ways, & my whiskers wait for trains on opposite platforms
at midnight's greek fountain did you invade me & I am stone.
I am prison and bird, I am the jailor, kicking in my own teeth
I am the ribbon that shivers in longing's tree.
I am the hollow loop that you have raped with your check-book
I am the resistance of solitude when february rocks in his pipe-filled chair

& I am impregnable to all but sorrow.
My sister is the black-eyed butterfly
My sister of the reflective sunglasses
My sister whose eye-sockets have no eyes
My sister, with her blue wings, with her penis, her emotion.
I feel her spine against mine, here on the lake you call a town
here where the trees gaze across at us. Two sisters,

silent and aware.

*

For My Mother.......

Heaven last lisp elephant forgetfulness

Slides into place

Born sideways, born slippery

The dog-tired envelope of our tongues is

Hunting down the fugitive of chandeliers shaped like bulldozers

...I am empty

The turnip farm is furrowed, and the lights are on in the cabin.

My mother lives here.

My clan ................is removing..........its skin

The tulip

is opening

our legs

Bishop-

drunk

on

................................sponge

............................................................binoculars

.........................................................................................................What Star-Sign Are We?

....................................................................................................Rock Beats Scissors
................................................................................RoR R

..................................................................................................Only Everyone Needs You

.............................................................................................Oh Daddy, You Weren't Jack the Ripper

*

.....................................................................Saturday Morning on Cheshire Street

I am being eaten by a golf-course.

.....................................................................................A Woman's Work Is Never Done

..........................................................................still life

middle-class girl

molly's dream date

Take Care Of All My Children.

I'll always be grateful to Andre Breton.
Surrealism changed my wife.

Have you ever been to Venice?, he asked airily. glug glug glug.

The mercedes purred, the flowers wept, and the sugar-coated tranquility of ostrich-eggs floating down the river like your breasts

I don't need religion, a bus, or a plane
I just need ten dollars and an underground train
Drink my way to her body, and I'll love her again.

Take care of all my children.

we need pictures.
when we can actually see each other, we don't need music.
aretha franklin's eyes, when she was 28 years young
they say, here is some work i did. i did it for you.
and i say, thankyou.