40 years after hearing
“No Blue Skies”
One time only
Under a death valley sky
The harsh one
Under the invisible venomous vaginal river
They warned us about.
You & me & Prufrock makes three
277′ below sea-level, in underground river course
We have kids, kids kids and dead songs
We are distributed like algae
Like plastics in the bellies of whales and petrels and albatross
Like micro-plastics in gaudy Puffins.
Let us go
Let us go out
Let us go out like Lawrence of Arabia
In our economy cars
The ones that we rent then surrender into
For our the-day-job
Them getOuttaBed-barely days
Where swollen bones have woke us all night.
With our consolation young white cats
With one good eye and rabbit feet
Hop into the great unknown where
Must we
Where
Must we
Laugh at the unknowns of the universe
In front of our tearful gods of plenty.
Plenty of nothings, perhaps
Lloyd, say it isn’t so
Sure,
We all want
We all want to
We wall want to want
We all want to want to measure up.
We all
I
Want
To resemble
To remind
Our hero selves
Our, I, Lawrence of Arabia
Our, flowing gowns
Our camels windswept
Our camels unbroken of mouth
Their why the hock, the hurl, the spit of
Foulnessses new to even us
Let alone the heave of angst-ridden hump.
Nevermind
We, I, digress
As even we just kneel down the east coast of Central Park
On the run, I’d say,
From the distress of wealthy women falling apart.
So, yeah sure, in LA and other deserts
Were we ready willing desperate to be heartbroken
Then came the stop sudden
Arrived at our front doors
Lloyd, the un-wills
And yet like forbidden Zuma Beach
Perhaps, must we return to the ready.
Shoulder arms
Order arms
Count! Cadence! Count!
To be once twice thrice again heartbroken.
Do good. Be good. Take care. My distant friend.
Likely we shall never meet again, untimely end.
Unless we meet again at a theater on the east bank
Where merry man Lawrence of Arabia
His band of 41 thieves ride again
Across tracks of their own mangling
Into sunsets unknown
Wearing hats of plenty
Astride animals of ill-intent
And pretty boys lay about the place
Where small princes come to die.
The winds howl as they hurl their payload of dust
Dust bearing 55-gallon drums of diesel and fear,
Oh and loathing,
The monsters many.
The white cats only one.
Take care my friend
Shall we delay the undoing
With a coffee at the five & dime
Discuss arthritics
Of becoming once again young
Sing one’s body once electric
Let us rise and exit the theatre to walk to the sea to
Which to our eyebrow-surprise has returned our
Distant friend,
Too-young.
Sir Lawrence of Arabia
We too were birthed by Panavision
Where once were we epic and drugged
Let us now lift our knees higher by one degree,
Take our drinks, and face our sun.
Our young white cat, thee and me
And upend this surprise ending .
With violent abandon
Rip out the tubes
Remount our steeds
Bleed out over our horizons
Our vicaries of derring-do.
Our blasting caps and six-guns
Let us set fire to the sky
Yip, yell and cowboy our way out of our chaparral hell.
My distant friend so close
Be thee well
Surrender not to the crevasse where
Dogs merely howl into hells of their own making.
Surrender not
I know,
The bones of break,
The days of blow down in south of filthy Tijuana.
Clever boy
Well they left their mark
But left us our leisure
Like the lark at break of day not bone arising
Our job.
You my friend
Sing every day your foreign songs.
I dare you distill
I dare you get your amphetamine
Like a det-cord strung-out blasting-cap
Bong this shit into a song
Spray it like any spray paint-soul spread out across a shave-tail sky
Blow this shit like any boyhood-kite
Or if you prefer
Into a sky of your own making.
Sign my book please
Just to get me off my knees
So I can crawl back into the car with my other brother.
On my death bed
Bring me a mute accordion player
My friend.
