Danny Simon
Danny Simon's twenty-nine
and he's prematurely gray,
and paradise is all around him,
but it just gets in his way.
Here's another unread message,
a Gold Mine came to call.
And everytime I'm the one to find him,
he's got his face turned to some wall.
Hey boy, what the hell you chasin'?
Don't you know that sound you hear
is your own heart racing?
Fifteen guys tryin' to find 'im,
each with blood in their eye,
and our boy Danny's tryin' to find
some place he ain't burned to hide.
And the only woman that ever loved him
is waiting for him at home.
Danny's flyin' Jamaican wind
and goin' to bed alone.
Hey boy, what the hell you chasin'?
Don't you know that sound you hear
is your own heart racing?
Last time I saw Danny
he took off like a shot.
I swear that damn motorcycle,
it's the only thing he's got.
yeah, that damned Harley-Davidson.
It's the only thing he's got.
And the only woman that ever loved him
is still waitin' for him at home.
Danny's flyin', shakin' and hidin'
and goin' to bed alone.
Hey boy, what the hell you chasin'?
Don't you know that sound you hear
is your own heart racing?
Hey boy, what the hell you chasin'?
Don't you know that sound you hear
is your own heart racing?
Jersey Joe
Hey!
Hey Jersey Joe!
Don't you know
This job was all I really needed?
Keeps me out of trouble on the fight nights
When the white flights
Go sailing with their leader.
Those boys sure fly high!
I've been blinded by their sparkle,
Wounded by their smiles,
Their orange exiles,
And the coolness of their marble.
But now I'm just a working stiff
And I ain't got a thing they think they need.
Just got this job
And you and me, Jersey Joe,
Don't you know
This job was all I needed!
Now talk about a blizzard,
It was Christmas eve
And I never felt so cold against the snow.
You know, Lucy keeps a running list
Of places I won't go
And a torch for all the hangouts
Where she's been busted.
Angel dustin' ain't my style and she knows it.
But every time she's close enough?
She blows it!
Six-oh-two time headed for the stores,
Boosting black bandannas,
Waltzing wickedly with whores,
Ah Lucy won't you come on home?
I got a job now!
Don't you know you're needed?
Just got this job
And you and me,
And Jersey Joe
Don't you know,
This job was all I needed!
cartoons for creatures who can't draw
I. The camel in the needle's eye
sometimes through the door, a moose
Please announce yourself to the receptionist.
She'll notice your antlers immediately
and escort you to Pete's pristine cubicle.
If by chance she misses them,
you can bray at these gothic columns
until echoes fill the room,
which happens with incredible dispatch,
and brings prissy Huguenots who'll wave
every manner of banner and scream
about what's best and proper etiquette.
You can act surprised and point
to your jewel encrusted crown.
Then the big guy'll decide if some mistake's been made.
And if that is the case, he'll cancel the parade.
II. The sad end of the albino lounge moth
The albino lounge moth kept running
into bright orange and mostly blue
signposts (painted by pigmy giants who'd
left leatherette barstools
spinning in a dervish hurry;
left quart cans of latex open to the air).
And every time he lit on one wet
pigment mottled his wings 'til he
looked like a jazz-crazed bumble-bee
and the danger at each warning seemed
less real and less weighty,
each splash of color dismissed another care.
When strangely, to his surprise, the paint can
lid he staggered onto - wouldn't let him go.
III. "Oh Joy! A Playmate!"
wishing I was Mel
So then the mouse
up & says, "Look,
whiskers, there's nothing
in your vocabulary
that even comes close to
anything in mine.
'Specially 'bout sustenance
& soul & silly things
like where & when & how to sleep.
So don't come here wanting
to play some lethal game
of hide & seek. Okay?
Oh, by the way, have you met
the yard's great black dane?
Hey Spike!"
IV. little chicken and the insanity defense
everyone's said for years
it's not that she's so weird
it's that everytime she passes
friendly ground she sends out sparks
& they've watched her natter on of how
no one knows a goddamn thing
& on and on of how it's always her
that's wrongly banished to the dark
besides, all she really said was
the world was failing all her tests
something fell from somewhere
it was blue and caused a briuse
surely psyches small and fragile
can be coaxed to understanding
strange things happen to most everyone
and we all know what it is to lose
one's head at an inauspicious minute
see the universe come crashing .. BANG
all of us can be forgiving can't we
even generous to one so meek and pure
now she knows the consequence of panic
can be counted on to just keep calm
and of course now she takes her medication
perhaps one day we'll find a cure
See I'd always heard
after bukowski,
poets were pansy, pantywaist, cultural parasites,
society's way of weeding out the emotionally dangerous,
so, naturally, I signed right up .. blues music to my ear,
then I found out that drugs, loose women and rock 'n'
roll were part of the mix and I've been addicted to putting
up with maniacs ever since .. if someone tries to hurt you
beat 'em to death with asterisks and chanting, they'll come
around .. and if they don't - fuck'em - cheap, superficial one
nighters are almost mandatory for cultural parasites anyways,
proof of the rule that one who'll pass out pieces of astronomically
priced mind to anyone for the pleasure of the moment is a tramp ..
and with that I'll have saxophone, cognac, and a few more buttons
undone.
