gaffer

"it may be the devil or it may be the Lord/but you gonna have to serve somebody"

the reckoning is upon us
lighting those storms
drinking tequila at night
living life in a haze

you may be living in a hobo shack
living mouth to foot
crying all night long
for something you might have done wrong

listen to the liars weep
across a standard plank that sweeps
drive thru freedom, business men
our great cause, united til then

no money no money
in the honky tonk bed
lighting matches for Jesus
lighting matches for the undead

eyes glowing on a teevee screen
yelling numbers and letters at you
making you listen
to the garbage brought forth, how do you do?

no more til then
i'll see you there
drinking herbal tea
in my underwear

if you like what you see, please tell me so
i'm at the end of a piece of yarn
don't please, don't give it a throw

jurist

changing faces no matter what
the man in the picture, or even in the rock

the inkblot indepth, show what your cognitive sees
making madmen crazy since '73

the shroud is there and so is the tomb
the jurist makes sense of the flu

you see god but it's only a shadow of a doubt
the cat it purrs, where thou art and where thus from

we all see it, especially the screws
unbolt dear Frankenstein, make Notre Dame new

Journalism will come I promise you that
life as a novelist, publish, the mascot at bat

the dark it clouds the mind and the fair
take off your pants, sit in a chair

take pictures of love and disgust and vomit
i just puked up a penny to the lawman

poet, mystic, prophet, son
am I sitting there as the only one

sit still, I can't, I've done it enough
no more decks or lies or quarrels above us

the jurist he knows where the fish does stand
get ready for the project at hand

underground

idiosyncrasies plague my mind

putting in place, lost time

the revenge of the many, weak and unbound

stay with the method, forget the trailer plough

the kids are starving in the kitchen

asking for food from a wildebeest bear

the man answers, no shirt there will be no sale

now where do you suppose these jack-o-lanterns r' from

the man in the hat with his pants at a crack

being forgetful, ain't that what is frowned

the two of them, both, so beautiful and fair

one worked for the mind, the other loves railroad gin

these women i love, will i see them again

searching for answers, camus writes the plague

the young man asks, what do you read sir and why

the mother she cried,  her funeral wrong time

the stranger he waits in the darkest of depths

strange days upon us, no word of a tale

i look in the mirror and see maggie's farm

the slur makes a  movement, forever in charge

the people keep voting, pathetic at best

they'll find ways to win, no matter the truth

they'll do it in Florida like they did with the junior

money doesn't talk, it swears, says Zimmerman's twin

Gemini's in motion, the bongo, the gin

babies eating food off the ground, mamma don't care, her kin

the warden rubs his palms, waiting for his Big Mac

Joey and Kelly on their way to the big time

asking for words, big words, like lethargic and mindswept

this poetry is over, the poet paddles above breath

mercury

the pressures getting to me
so many pretty girls I can't kiss
oh lord help me
gotta find a savage mama
listening to air when no ones around
double check the door
make sure it's locked
left right and center
the thimble balances the board
all we have is monopoly
is anybody really keeping score
i'll show you where he bit me
the vampire like chameleon
it itches in the moonlight
so i stay indoors til noon
peeling the tape off the kitchen floor
the whole teams here, let out a roar
into darkness it flashes
the lights have gone down
the people still talk around it
lookin like so working clown
stretching and jumping and stealing cigarettes
it's been a long drag
work upside and downside
ways to go from here
just i hope you are reading this
so clever, sometimes in fear
the list goes on and on
no mercury in my hat
freddy mercury on stage
in a little corncob hat
leather jacket all decked out
find the nonsense in the meentime
this really could be no doubt

untitled

the mind outlives the body
the soul enters through the gates of all time and reality
in another lifetime, we say
but what else can we bring forth to the gates of eden
saint jacob and his song are at a loss
the wobbly way to the wicked dismay
live a life of destiny, just to find out your in a box
boxed in, more like the boxed inn
shelving drawers and paper bags
living off plantation sands
the water all comes down when the sun shines
on a bright sunny day, the rain does fall
into moments whisper, dead, so calm
a scuffle in the back room
a basement leading nowhere
how do we get from place to place
our perception at hand will forever fill our grace
he's slow you think but you do not know
the man said perseverance
the wobbler, to and fro
beggars cash, a monetary worth
figure the numbers
no people, less dirt
wadding hundred dollar beers in their hand
the beers mean bills and the eye of the tiger
shot of whiskey forlorn
only wiser's, jack, jim, jimmy, parade
let the trumpet burst for you reckon the day will come
to speak the words on set in illusions of the dusk
minded times to see the muddle
ask the kind folk about their struggle
the gates of eden are yonder now
back to the grind
a new story to tell
so tired no sleep bang on the drum
tick tock tick tock the time has come
ready your bags and lock the door
the future is about to take you bye storm

wino

there's a teardrop in my whiskey
geminis on teevee
can't comprehend what i believe
the whirled it goes in circles
the penny train has lost
fighting with the house wives
to determine the cost
freezer burn in april
cool as calm in july
i open the door, there is no shed of  a lie
the night it waits so patiently
not even thoughts inside my head
going around in circles
hell, the showboats dead
peering through her vaccum
the lumber lady has said
no fault of mine dear
i'm just selling bread
the kindest treat me nicely
the 1% is a shame
what i do without my honey
makes me literally go insane
the theatre opens daily
for noon and midnight drinks
only opened for the scrooge
who sits back and thinks
money made of paper
dollars made of sand
this ol' boy will make it
he just has to stand
so cry, cry, cry
a virgin mother does portray
think about the loss we have
never let go of dismay
the winter months are heavy
the time of the month is near
when all the way goes neither
and the absence has been made
little words in Paris
shining down on me
the french they have the lot of it
sometimes they get things for free
a wino in a pulpit
praying to the words of God
appreciating his being
until once again he's drunk
but the wino is society
drunk off power, lust and fame
walk down the street in the morning
find out what's really been made
hold back so patiently
the end is coming soon
i count one two three
and then the words are mighty obsolete
carefree shopping in the malls
the money spent
the curse has fell
a family stays warm
we pity the poor
they've been saved
the country doesn't hold back
this is all too much sound
i need to record an eight track