Tuesday, August 07, 2001

Jet Girl

I look at the airplane in the sky
and think of what I see when I'm up there flying high,
looking past the cotton-colored clouds -- they're supposed to be soft
sometimes they're hard on the plane
and there's turbulence and rain.
I'm looking down on the quilts of land and lights-- electric and aquatic.
Sometimes the ground looks like it's coming apart at the seams.
That's where there's jagged lines of dark green.
But when the plane gets closer to the ground I see soft rows of trees

From the sky I like seeing man-made rows of buildings and houses
in New York City and Los Angeles where they SEEM organized from a distance
even when the pollution's clouds fight each other to survive
tho’ the smog does thrive--

-- are places where the world's really coming apart at the seams.

The dry desert earth where Paul Bunyan dragged his ax across brittle
we call it The Grand Canyon.

I saw grey, black and blue-- mainly grey water around Cleveland--
Someone told me years ago the Cuyahoga River caught on fire 'cause it
was so
a river catching on fire?
But I liked the view of Cleveland-- buildings of red, glass, browns and
colors from all over America's history

and there's lots of good land:
--greens all over Pennsylvania and parts of Florida,
--lots of colors from Utah to Nevada,

God and his angels fingerprinted the earth's spaces and places.

There's misty blue lights over North Carolina
and long patches of green and brown and yellow in Missouri made me want
to go
So I went there and got hay fever... and hit by a car!
Maybe the NEXT time I go to Kansas City I might take a car!

I like to fly in the airplanes.
I like the different green and grey hazes of the days--
the tiny pictures of land inching below.

I like the lights at night on the land; they look alive like constellations

of the sky.

I look out of the sky
and see all of the land sewn together...
But I can't see me
looking at me from up above.
Down below I can hear the plane
but I can't hear me thinking from up there.

I can't hear the pilot talking all the time
whether I'm on the ground or in the plane
I can't see enough.
But I do like what I see
and I know there's more,
so I'm gonna go flying again next week
and then some more.

Life Is Passing Time
(Dedicated to Mr.Rogowsky)

It's Aphrodite's B.C.
and you discovered the hole in your belly,
things that are round and four meanings for “square,”
singing songs 'cause you gotta feel more.
Everyone's got the same body
tho' only a few of you bones will unearth
in the future's passing time......

passing to make it good or bad.
it's just some passing time
to pass around
to pass it on and on and on and on and on (and so on).

It's the Age of Discovery
and you explored Greece, The Far East and Turkeys,
The South Pole, The North Pole and Pochahantis,
singing, “For Gold, Gospel and Glory.”
Everyone explored all over
tho' only a few were good explorers
exploring some passing time.

It's the Modern Age
and you invented technology--
an amp, ampex and korectotype,
singing to get more done much faster.
Everyone's invented solutions
tho' only a few stay as they were once
invented in passing time.....

passing to make it good or bad.
it's just some passing time
to pass around
to pass it on and on and on and on and on (and so on).

It's something it never was
and you're responsible for everything:
Polarity and solarity and circles and squares,
singing, “For Gold, Gospel and Glory.”
Everybody is someone
and nothing is something for sure
more than just something
in all of this passing time.

Silence Like a Cancer Grows
(to R.G.)

Silence like a cancer grows
don't tell anyone what's bothering your soul,
not your former lovers
or your real life mother
or the little boys and girls who love you.

Silence like a cancer grows....
when you were on stage you didn't put on a show,
you just laid back,
seemed so relaxed,
and afterwards you laid a lot.

Silence like a cancer grows...
how come you didn't tell your band what you were going through?
IT don't just get homos,
hospital patients, druggies or dodos.
and when you get it, you don't know when you'll go.

Silence like a cancer grows...
and when you lose your looks 'cause IT eats you inside out
and everyone gives you reason to doubt
with whom you'll let your feelings about.
What's really going on, you dumb, dumb lout?!!!!!!

Silence like a cancer grows.....
you ain't the only one who's keeping the story from getting out,
the press won't write about IT;
'cause they say you're still sleeping around
and they wont fuel your fame round the world.

Silence like a cancer grows...
has IT hit the community
where everybody sleeps with everybody
and everybody they've ever slept with?
Is love and our art gonna die
'cause of the big S?