Tuesday, August 19, 2003
freeport
Lyrics:
So fare thee well happiness
Cause I got blues
And I got a lot of patience baby
That's a lot of patience to lose
I'm a woman
waiting for due time
now I've been treated bad
When I was a freeport
& you were the m - a - i - n - oooooh - d - r - a - g, uh.
laura nyro was my put-upon woman singer. those old albums were played til the jackets turned into dust when i picked them up and the vinyl flew into the floor for a few more scratches. i can hear this song in my head today. it's not the new kinda funk, it's the old dreaded funk, and it sucks frankly.
Too Many You's:
today i present as the essential bruise:
clad primarily in blacks and blues,
shirt, jumper, tights and shoes,
positively funereally i cruise
through a traffic jam of undeniable clues
to the doorway of the old, dreaded news:
today i was beat up, felt those rusty screws
trespass a heart jerked and dried into snack-sized chews;
read a prophetic headline: 'faithless man woos,
"trusting woman bound to lose"
i was stood up. sumbitch. lied to, bullshitted...and i thought i was going to a concert, which i have not for years already. so that's it.
You took my heart misery
You taught me blues
Well I got a lot of patience baby
That's a lot of patience to lose
i'm mad at my country,
now I've been treated bad
When I was a freeport
& you were the main drag
i will not indulge much longer...when i began replacing the vinyl with CD's i somehow ended up without christmas and the beads of sweat. did i think i would never feel flattened by man-fed bullshit again? probably. i probably thought i had enough to suffer through already, had paid my dues, blah blah bullshit...what i have never been able to figure out is why not just tell the truth, or never say anything in the first place? i mean this thing was promised and more than once. whatever.
now i have written it - was i thinking i wouldn't have to write it to stop stewing over it? hah.
testify
Who am i, what am i
A picture's worth
moon phases |
I stand on the sand, and I'm rocking
grief to sleep in my arms.
issues
Poetry roll
Comments by: YACCS