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CAR-PIECE OUTSIDE ihOP

On the evening of MayDay, I went to Seattle's Center on Contemporary Arts.

The above paintings are from 3 different schools

White paint and fingers.

Age: 4 years old and upwards.

......................................................*************

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The children's expression makes me see how far I still have to go with my own work.

But it can be done -- SI SE PUEDE!

...t

and the boot goes on...

........

...................................Tied to the past of the fisher-schools
...................................................................


................................Greta Garbo in fortified whine,
,,,,,,,plastic bone-spoon, cage-bone mutter, rebellious bone dogflat, ribs, bit of pot, bone pitter-pat, falling out the window can wake you up

............Sigmund Feud's banana-skin
...............................
.....climbing the lavender staircase
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....................................................................ESKIMO eyelashes..........SKY-LASHES die-lashes

primly butchered doves...........maypole barbeque, hitherto-too-hidden-heretics! unk! unk! heretic = sword, soared, sawed. pawed, poored, satiated, then sainted.

heretic is also her-erotic

.......dance dogerrel liquifies autumnal chops ........deserted cause-ways, clawsplay, mirthway, northday
scowling clouds of crowding brown clowns cloud clapping samuraid pelican cross-eyed, now, core-played, sweet, wait
limousined limbo-dancers dilate lucidly, ( unk, unk), as lucy-lou's lavender lassoo larder hardens

..........and do-doom do-littles littering the delta............... ( children: paint using only your doctor.)

so snow delights the welter-wait, back-nut, whore-brooks, skateaway straightaway hate late,

get your farmy alms, Ma, another brother-cousin, calm, Moor-day, harm, gate, morning claw
stuttering lice (nice as rice) and they flip-flop-dip, flop-flip-dip, in the most of all now we say gummy rainday

Just saw the old man's bristly beard, ball-bouncing down the wide-way

whispering climb hat of exclamation-marx

the state stole 400 children today,

but Lucy is limbo-ing the delta in her beautiful feet, Keats, wheat, eat, heat,

and all the boys look sharp as toys, so I guess it must be spoonday

such antique antics, ultimately arctic, attics of unarticulated out-takes! so oral, so oddly oval!

A day for me and antilope eggs to get more than meltly, maybe peltly, maybe sveltly, aquainted.

the






........................................................................................Kingtime

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............................................................................................Fame

.........................................................................................THE KING IS NOT DEAD

.........................................................................................Tomorrow

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d


Suicide Note.

*

I'm so tired of being poor
I'm so tired of being a money-whore
I'm so sick of your fucking war
You're so easy to ignore
Please, Mr Gates, can I have some more?

I had four walls, I had intent
I had three wives, all Heaven-sent
I had two jobs, to pay the rent
I had one heart, and then it went.

Are you in touch with your own feelings?
Do you like us quietly kneeling?
While our balls you're busy stealing?
I'm doing a class next week on holistic healing.

Colon-cancer, blood-stained shit
Neighbors busy trading kicks
Lovers slice themselves to bits
Mother's TV, late-night flicks

Seize the moment, always stoned
Shared amnesia, sensual tone
Working hard to be alone
Making love by telephone

He's a hero, she's a doll
Pop songs in a discount mall.

All your filth won't raise my dick
All your drugs just make me sick
Both your parties, bags of tricks
Both your faces packaged slick

Bus or feet, car or train
Get to work, it's all the same
Cola dreams or pepsi pain
Watch your life go down the drain
Don't look at me, I'm not to blame
Follow orders, take the strain.

I'm so tired of being poor
I'm so tired of being a money-whore
I'm so sick of your fucking war
You're so easy to ignore
Please, Mr Gates, can I have some more?

Don't look at me, I'm not to blame
We're just pawns in a rich man's game
Follow orders. Take the strain.


fx
cx

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....................................................................................I'm all years

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.............................................................................Where are you, when I knead you, like dough?

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this MuleI write you an e-mail



This Mule...........................................by Charlie Mingus


This mule is not from Moscow, this mule is not even from the South

This mule has had some learning, mainly mouth-to-mouth

This mule could be called clever, and lazy

but maybe this mule is busy, waiting and learning, hoping and planning, for a sacred kind of day

For a day when the burning of sticks and crosses is not mere child's play, but a madman in his most incandescent bloom!
Whose loveless soul is imperfection! In it's most lustrous groom!

So, stand fast, old-young mule, soon then contemplation THY BURNING HOLE AND ACHING FIRE!
thy STUBBORNESS is of the LIVING!

and cruel anxiety has begun to fade

I write you an e-mail, a rainfall of nails. The moon in seamed stockings, a lizard in the rough.

We have been laid-off from our own movie.

The tiny apologetic puddles at the back of people's eyes, the long inch of this night.

We sit in dark rows, watching intently as people go through certain pre-determined motions on a raised stage

We devote our lives to this!

How many acres and a mule? A pefect egg. A bat for the fruitfly, a million tiny shipwrecks.

How the flowers talk at railroad stations, and bus-terminals

How flowers lean in to each other, over the tarmac road

They put their bendy arms around each other

Kinetic star-children.

Nostalgic button-holes.

This world is not very big, and there is barely room in it for our love.

Boiling the asteroid in asparagus whispers

.

A red velvet throat, as inept as the rain

The hand-grenade, the lipstick.

I suppose money-cops will frost the spring, and tranquilised windows, but Christ, the grass!

Humanity, stretching out its' arms. The solemn cathedral of our bodies

And the purity of lips, when they are not wasted on speech.

Limp lice get rabies on bowling greens

Dazed helmets shudder in the sun

.

In the park, the wind pushed the branches of two trees together

I watched them, and when I close my eyes, I still see them

bonded together, all night long, in the same kiss.

g

In the center of the bull-fight, water.

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.................."I think ultimately there will be a clash between those who are oppressed and those who do the oppressing."
.hv.......................................hk..............................................k

......................................................................................... .Malcolm X



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..............................................................................Just the three of us.

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...............................................................................................No Child Left Behind

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......................................................................................Bill Hicks....(1961 -.........)


He once said,
......................... "After a show, a guy came up to me and said, "I don't come to a club to think, I come for entertainment." I said, "My mistake. Where do you go to think? We could go there."


d

We kissed beneath an amber moon, and softly whispered, "someday soon"

The morning found me miles away, with still a million things to say.

Brazzillll....

x

cfruquote



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.................................................................................by Robert Crumb