Minutemen

When Tony got wasted in Pedro
I was wasted in New River

Listening to Lynyrd Skynyrd
In Randy's pickup

Almost flying off the road
Into a sandwall

With my brother
And a dickhead named Jack

Who stole my hash

When Tony got wasted in Pedro
I took Jenny for a walk

In a river of sand
I sang the Silver Tongued Devil

When Tony got wasted in Pedro
I moved a pile of junk
Around the backyard
'Cause my dad's an asshole

When Tony got wasted in Pedro
And thought I'm going to be famous

When Tony got wasted in Pedro
Pete and Joe and Mark and I

Sat on a boulder

At the base of Black Mountain
And passed a bottle of five dollar a liter Vodka around

When Tony got wasted in Pedro
Truth be told

I'm not sure what I was doing

'Cause I don't know when

Tony got wasted in Pedro

I didn't hear about it
Until I got out of the Army
And started buying punk rock records

When Tony got wasted in Pedro
When Tony got wasted in Pedro
When Tony got wasted in Pedro

I don't know where I was
I don't know where I was
I don't know where I was



If you can sing this song
In under a minute
I will give you a buck

Two chords
And a cloud of dust

Any two chords
Will do

And you're a songwriter

Dude

Pop Song : John Lennon

I hope you are always unpredictable

I hope you never take no for an answer

I hope you never let an idiot tell you what to do

I hope you marry a nice man

I hope you always keep a couple secrets in your pocket

I hope your story is funny all the great ones are

I hope you never stop making up songs

I hope you never let a boy splatter his shit all over your kitchen wall

I hope you fight like a dog in a pit for what you want

I hope what you want is worth fighting for

I hope you always know how much I adore you

I hope the work you have to do is the work that you want to

I hope you never judge a man by his uniform

I hope you make the time to listen to the music I've collected

I hope you remember me fondly when I'm gone

I hope your mother does too

Bluesman : John Lee Hooker

I never made it to Paris
my father said there's a war they're not sending you to Germany
I wasn't that surprised and only a little disappointed
I thought I could go to Paris after my hitch
when my foot was blown off and my arm mangled I laid on the ground and laughed
I smelled rain
it wasn't raining
I don't know if it ever did
Cooper ran up and gave me some morphine and said you're lucky Dude
call me lucky then I said
I wasn't much good to the Army with a limp and a worthless left arm so I was discharged and a little lucky I guess and returned to my hometown and laid around my dad's house drinking beer and smoking dope and reading books about World War II
my favorite was Some Came Running
my dad said you should go out
I said where would I go
take your girlfriend to a movie he said
she isn't my girlfriend anymore I said
give her a chance my dad said
she doesn't know I'm home and I thought you didn't like her anymore I said and thought I might and listened to my dad tune his guitar and play a song about a train
you could join in my dad said
I don't play anymore I said
before I was hit all I thought about was walking up to Kathy in my uniform although she probably wouldn't be impressed by an Army uniform and telling her about my great adventure
the night before I left for basic I took Kathy to the half-finished house I helped her dad build in the woods by the river
she said guys like your friend Jerry join the Army and you are nothing like him
I said maybe I'm more like him than you know
maybe you are she said can you smell the rain she asked
yeah I said
I hope it pours she said
it was the end of summer and dark
I couldn't see the trees but I heard them moving
take me home she said and I thought I'll write her a letter tomorrow on the plane and tell her why I did all the shit I did that she didn't understand

Rory Gallagher

Abstract Tribute

He's such an asshole she said
The asshole she was referencing was in a Circle K getting money out of an ATM
I laughed
It's not funny she said
A man opened the passenger door and sat in the cab
I'm busy I said
He pointed a pistol at me and said drive Dog
I backed up and pulled out of the parking lot I don't have much money I said
I don't want your money Dog
What do you want? I asked
Take a left
Did my husband hire you? she asked
Shut up he said
I turned left
Pull in here he said
I pulled into a driveway
He opened a garage
Park he said
Come on he said and we followed him into a little box house
Two guys were sitting at a table in the kitchen playing cards
Over here he said and pointed at a door
We walked into the room
He shut and locked the door
My husband has his name written all over this she said
I sat on a bed
What the fuck I said
What are you going to do? she asked
About this?
She nodded
I don't know that guy seems to know what he's doing I said
Why, she asked, because he tells you to do something and you do it?
Yeah I said
I thought cab drivers are supposed to be tough she said

I'm not that tough, I admitted
No shit she said do you have a cigarette?
They're in the cab
Figures
I can take pain better than I can fight I said
That's deep she said you're worthless
I wouldn't put it that way I said and laid down on the floor and closed my eyes
What are you taking a nap? she asked
Yep I said
I hope that little nigger kills you
He's not that little I said
He's a fucking midget!
The door opened the guy looked at me and said come on
I got up and followed him into a hall
You've done what I asked and I don't need you so I'm going to let you go he said
Cool I said
Look at my face he said
I did
Now forget it he said and paused I'll open the garage door he added
Thanks man I said and got in my cab and drove to the Ritz

History Lesson XLIII

One of the many cool things about Rory Gallagher is that almost all of his records have a crime novel-themed song

He never sucked up to the public or the record companies

The Stones wanted him to audition after Mick Taylor quit and he played with them for a couple days and said I have to go to Japan

He wasn't into the art of making singles

He wasn't anybody's sideman

He could play rhythm and lead at the same time

Like a real blues' man or folk singer

No way in hell was anyone going to tell him what to play or how

He died way before his time

Too much dope and booze

He left a pretty hefty resume and legacy and a street corner named after him in Dublin Belfast or Cork

His old Stratocaster hangs on a brick wall under his name and a couple dates and his old records still sound great

So turn off that shit you are listening to and download Jinx or Calling Card and crank it up to the rafters

Right now

Unless you don't like Rock and Roll

Bruce Springsteen

About a week before I was laid off
I took Maria down to Atlantic City
We hit the tables
And saw a couple shows
Maria loves that shit
(I couldn't care less)
I hope she remembers
A friend of mine
Sells black market cigarettes
And some other stuff
I help him sometimes
And that should keep me
In spending money
While I go bankrupt
Tomorrow we're going to the river
I'll bring my old boom box
And some tapes I made her
When we were in high school
I found them in the basement
While I was looking for my baseball mitt
Even though I'm not doing much
I'm tired all the time
A bartender told me it's stress
I don't believe that
I haven't told my wife
I'm out of work
We leave at the same time
I come home
Watch game shows
Drink beer
And listen to music with my dog
Sometimes in the afternoon
I drive around
But the radio sucks
And I have nowhere to go
Sometimes I do go to the lake
Sit in the car
Watch the snow fall
But that only works for awhile
I should be looking for a job
But I don't want one
Maybe I will
When I really want something
Or I lose everything
At the risk of sounding depressing
My dad used to say at the dinner table
At least we're doing better than the niggers
My mom would say Henry
My dad would laugh and wink at me
And say he knows I don't mean nothing
I think he meant that
Although we weren't doing that good
At least we weren't doing that bad
I can't even say that anymore
My dad isn't a racist
His friends said nigger this
Nigger that
So he did
I'm not making excuses
He doesn't need me to
My dad has his faults
But we always had food
A house
And he had a little extra in his pocket
Most of the time
If my mother or I needed anything
And he cheered like a madman
If I did something good in a football game
And he treats my mom pretty good
I met Maria my junior year
I knew she was the one
And I wouldn't do better
In a million years
So I married her
College was a stupid dream
I sure don't regret my choice
It was the right one
I was going to study engineering
I have always been fascinated by bridges

Rolling Stones

If the quality of the records

they played on
is the determining factor
Mick Taylor is the best
second guitarist
the Stones had
however Brain Jones'
slide on No Expectations
sounds like he's been
playing and living
the blues
for a hundred years
and that's almost impossible
Ron Wood lasted the longest
and was as good as anyone
when he was Rod Stewart's
right hand man
(Brown Deer thinks
he's the most underrated guitarist
in the history of rock and roll)
and he got off to a great start
on Some Girls
and Jagger and Richards
were better songwriters
during Taylor's reign
and who really knows
who's playing what
when it all melds
seamlessly together
except journalists
nonetheless
Taylor gets my vote
but who knows
I guess
they all did alright
for themselves
except for
Brain Jones
and even his short life
was probably
better than most
guys who pick up a guitar
and try to play for dough

Jimmy Miller
produced the Rolling Stones
from Beggars Banquet
through Goat Heads Soup
and for that
he should receive a
Nobel Prize
and Mick and Keith
ought to drop by the office
and dip into their petty cash
and cut him a check
for ten million dollars
the Stones
never had a stretch
like that before or since
although Some Girls
through Dirty Work
is semi-close
and a million miles away
in Richards' book Life
he claims
Miller got hooked
and sat in the control room
carving swastikas
into the soundboard
while they made
Goats Head Soup
hey it's only rock and roll
ain't it
he got canned
and that's understandable
but producers
make a difference
check out Aftermath
and then play Sticky Fingers
and tell me they don't

They opened
with Start Me Up
and played Jumpin' Jack Flash
and Satisfaction
and Under My Thumb
and most of their hits
and some surprises
the stage was huge
and Jagger ran around it
like a man half his age
and kept changing his clothes
I guess it was great
but I was too far away
even though I improved
my position
by about seventy-five percent
there aren't any good seats
in a football stadium
and even the Stones
can't overcome that
although I'm glad
I went
the most memorable
part of the concert
was freezing
my ass off
in the bed of a truck
on Carefree Highway
after getting dumped
on Seventh Street
by a friend of mine's
dickhead of a father
and getting dropped off
on Cave Creek road
and walking
the rest of the way
and smoking
my last joint
with my buddy Pete

The Eighties: an essay of sorts (The Decade Of Prince)

The Band holed up in LA
drinking
and snorting
and smoking
and fucking (who can blame them)
John Lennon
and Peter Tosh
were murdered
The Cars and the Police
took over the radio
Bob Marley died
Michael Jackson
and Madonna
taught
a generation
how to dance
and revolutionized
a new low artform
Elvis Costello
did all he could
and then some
Linda Ronstadt
disappeared
for the most part
Stevie Nicks
sang
Knocking On Heavens Door
with Bob Dylan
in Mesa
and you could
smell that shit
in Phoenix
Tom Waits
records kept getting
more interesting
Something started
brewing
in Seattle
Dimes
became nickles
and quarters
looked like dimes
but the weed
tasted sweeter
Husker Du
and X
and the Replacements
and Lone Justice
and the Blasters
and the Beat Farmers
and the Del Lords
and Giant Sand
and the Golden Palominos
and Green On Red
and the Long Riders
and some bands
I forget
or can't spell
composed
performed
and recorded
great music
throughout the decade
and were
mostly ignored
until they went broke
and quit
Bob Dylan's
records
were underrated
but not up to
his high standards
Prince
damn near
saved
rock and roll
and the world
but it was
too big a job
for one man
to do
The Clash
said goodnight
and punks
became post punks
overnight
and why
would anyone
want to be called
a punk anyway
The Fornicating Cattle
sounded like Exile
era Stones
for two minutes
in 1988
but Brown Deer
forgot to
turn on the tape
Don Williams
and Hank's kid
and Patty Loveless
tried to keep
country and western music
from jumping off a cliff
The Stones
still had it
but were
less willing
to bring it
they made
a few decent records
and put on
at least
one mediocre
show in Phoenix
or maybe it was great
and everyone
was to far away
to see it
and everyone said
this might be
my last chance
to see them
Lou Reed
made his
best record
and everyone
still kept talking
about the
Velvet Underground
for reasons
I can't comprehend
The Who
broke up
came back
and made
piles of cash
they're still
trying to count
After a decade
and a half of
elegant
understatement
Eric Clapton
hooked up
with Phil Collins
and made two
of his worst records
(I can listen to
but not defend them)
to be fair
he made a couple
pretty good ones
Where's Leon
when you need him
Waylon quit
drinking coke
and staying up
all night
catchin' songs
John Cougar
changed his name again
U2
became
the biggest band
in the world
for better and worse
And who
can forget
Duran Duran
Wham
the catch
money for nothing
and
chicks for free
Dynasty
Bill Cosby
Bill Buckner
Pat Benatar
The cold war (I miss it)
Ronald Ray Gun
the beginning
of the end
of western civilization
and
The long
slow death
of rock and roll
and
country western


The ten best records of the decade were
I Blast Of Silence
II King Of America
III Purple Rain
IV The Blasters
V Warehouse
VI New York
VII More Fun In The New World
VIII The Rose Of England
IX Rumor And Sigh
X Rain Dogs
Off the top of my head
Ten more
Honky Tonk Angel
Guitar Town
The Pressure Is On
Blood And Chocolate
Rock n' Roll
Money And Cigarettes
Nebraska
Border Radio
Emotional Rescue
Long Stem Rant
I could go on and on
The ten best songs
I Brownsville Girl
II Purple Rain
III Poor Little Girl
IV Looking For Lewis And Clark
V Reason To Believe
VI Work Was New
VII American Without Tears
VIII Little Honey
IV All My Rowdy Friends (Have Settled Down)
X Johnny Come Lately
Artist of the decade
and it ain't even close
PRINCE
He could
fill both lists
if I wasn't
trying to be fair
to everyone but him
How could
a list
of the twenty best albums
of the decade
not include
Sign Of The Times
and 1999
Here's
ten songs
that should
blow your mind
I Could Die For U
I Could Never Take The Place Of Your Man
Little Red Corvette
Raspberry Beret
When You Were Mine
Nothing Compares To U
Cream
Alphabet Street
Diamonds And Pearls
Controversy
How's that
for ten years worth
And there's more
those are
just the ones
I thought of
while I looked
at a couple
of his records
while doing
research for
this tome
Yeah I know
this is hardly
a tome
and calling
looking
at the back
of a greatest hits CD
research is
kind of a stretch

Guided By Voices

I was walking down the street last Sunday
And I saw something I can't talk about
The park was full of European football players so we went to the zoo
After we circled the town looking for you
I sat on the toilet and watched you take a bath
Read a story by John Updike made a ham sandwich and fell asleep watching golf
A perfect afternoon ruined by a suggestion
A wasted week saved by a great football game
I'm proud of you you said
For what I asked I haven't done a damn thing in fifty years I said
A wine bottle slid off the table and shattered on the cement floor
The music was so loud we didn't notice the fire in the backyard until it was way too late
I smelled rotten peaches
And looked but couldn't find any and that drove me crazy
When we ran head-on into the end of the line
I heard you laughing in the caboose
I can't see the smoke signals (I know you're sending) through the fog
Or find the stuff we thought we needed in the attic

Rod Stewart

Last night

Bob Dylan
sang
Tangled Up In Blue
and I thought
man
you have to
sing songs
for fifty years
to pull this off.
My brother said
this might be
the worst version
I've ever heard
but it sounds
cool as shit.
Penny smiled
and said
it's scat rap.
I just made that up,
she added.
I was
kind of sad.

I thought
I'm never going
to hear it
sung like that again.
If I could
I would
play it
over and over
again and again
'cause that's
the way I am.
I learned
from my dad.
He listened
to Every Picture
Tells A Story
all night
while
he played gin
with his
friend
Nick Monda.
They made
a bet.
Who could
hold out
the longest.
They thought
it was
a perfect record
and it probably is
Rod's masterpiece
and he made
a shitload
of great records
in the seventies.

Ian Hunter and Mick Ronson

My parents dropped us on the corner.
My mom said have fun and my dad said stay out of trouble, and we walked past two girls in skimpy clothes.
One of us remembered that the tickets were still in the car.
My brother knew our seat numbers and they let us in.
A weird looking dude opened.
We thought he sounded kind of like Elvis Costello.
We had no idea while we waited between shows that we were about to see the best concert we ever would.
Had we known we would have been even more excited and probably a little sad.
We were in high school and loved music more than anything except maybe football.
Over the next forty some years the Boss and Dylan and Richard Thompson and the Mekons and Warren Zevon and some other guys came close but no one ever topped that show.
Maybe it was the dope.
I think it was nineteen-seventy-eight (give or take) and I know my brother bought my ticket and probably wanted to take a girl and settled for me (thank God) and someone in the front row handed Mick Ronson a joint and he sucked it down during Walkin' With A Mountain or All The Way From Memphis and I'm drop dead certain Ian Hunter and Mick Ronson fronted the best rock and roll band in the world for at least one night.
I have proof.
Ask Brown Deer.
He'll tell you the truth.

He will also tell you that if Mott The Hoople ain't in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame they ought to burn that pretty little building down and start again.

Creedence Clearwater Revival

He couldn't place a smell while he cooked for her he kept one eye on the door.
She loved her husband still and more he knew.
Her husband was his friend.
He was looking out for her and protecting his investment.
They thought her husband was dead.
He wasn't.
That changed everything.

They waited in a shack in a canyon in northern California.
He rigged a kick ass light and sound system for his hippie friends before he joined the Army.
He planed to use the canyon, the light and sound system and his considerable arsenal to keep their enemies at bay and it almost worked.

She was doing a lot of heroine he smuggled from Vietnam that some guys wanted pretty bad.
He knew they were fucked even back in Nam when he and her husband hatched the plan.
So he tried to keep her alive until he could figure something out.
He wasn't sure he could.

He was an all American clean cut kid before the shit hit the skid and the car flipped and caught fire on an empty highway in the middle of nowhere he metaphorically ran out of gas.

His lover and his friend barley escaped.
She still had to dry out and her husband had to explain why he risked it all for a half million bucks.

They found him on the empty road a half mile from where they were to rendezvous and left him.
They had too.
They were not truly safe yet and loved each other more than they loved him and he knew that while he ran down the road singing basic training songs to keep going (in case they needed him) until he couldn't and they didn't need him anymore.

Elvis

I was watching
Monday Night Football
with my father
when I heard Elvis died.

I know this could be
false testimony
if he didn't die
on a Monday
and if that's the case

I do not mislead
on purpose
and I still think about
that night
sometimes
whether I remember it
correctly or not
it never fails
to make me sad.
I do know
I was with my dad
and we were watching TV
and my father probably
said something disparaging
about Elvis.
He wasn't a fan
and neither was I
at the time.
I knew less then
than I know now
and I don't know much
at this moment
but I do know
my father and I
were wrong
about Elvis.
He sort of invented
rock and roll
for God's sake.

I know some people say
it was Ike Turner
and the old blues' guys
deserve a lot of credit
but somebody had to bring it
to the masses
with clarity and style
if Elvis hadn't

this mean old world

may have never heard
Smoke On The Water
Born To Run
and Maggie Mae
(to name just a few)
and I wouldn't
want to live in a world
without that
wonderful noise.
Would you?

Thanks Elvis.

Sugar

We wrote the songs on the fly with the tape rolling the night Daniel Mattes and I invented "grunge".

Daniel manned a keyboard and I played a cheap electric guitar Daniel had laying around his apartment.

The next night Tom showed up with an acoustic guitar and added some blues licks.

If Daniel or I wanted to play the songs we wrote that fateful weekend tonight we wouldn't know how to play them because we never did.

Whenever I tell people that my friend and I invented "grunge" they don't believe me and I lost the tape about ten years ago so I guess we'll never get the credit we deserve.

So be it.


I guess it doesn't matter if John Doe or King Buzzo or Niel Young or Kurt Cobain or Daniel Mattes and I are the Godfathers of "grunge" but it is worth noting that Sugar perfected the sound in recording studios and dive bars around the world

For about five years nothing sounded grander.

That's what really matters.

I wonder what happened to Daniel?

Mekons

I was shouting

There are eighteen wheelers on my front lawn
The truckers love my ma' but they don't stay long
One might be my pa' but I don't know
Oh no Dotsero I'd leave you but I love you Dotsero

and banging on an old beat up acoustic guitar.

Tom was playing a fake black telecaster (he was the only one plugged in). We saw X in an alley about a week before so he thought he was Billy Zoom. Someone yelled turn your fucking amp down! Tom stopped playing and said, I'm the only one here that knows what he's doing.

Lee was a decent singer but he didn't know the words to the song.
Danny had never played the drums but he had rhythm so he got the job. I told him to keep it simple.
Brown Deer was turning the tape recorder on and off.
We have to communicate, I said.
What? someone yelled.
Turn that Goddamn amp down, I said to Tom. He turned it up to nine.
Danny tried a drum roll.
This is pointless, Brown Deer said, and lit a joint.
I put my guitar down. Give me that, I said.
Let's try a different song, Tom said.
Lee knew one verse to I Walk The Line so we tried that until we ran out of coke.
Someone said, we should get some more, and that was a good idea but we were broke.

Sparkle Horse

Sparkle Horse
Crossed a river
Somewhere in South Dakota
And found something
That changed his life
Not for the better though.
He kept moving.
Outside Denver
He called
An old girlfriend
From a dive bar.
She wasn't selling
What he was trying to buy
So he drove all night
And ended up in Phoenix
Too tired to continue
But he had to try.
The next day
In New Mexico
Beside a creek
He couldn't cross
He laid down
Under a skinny tree
Next to an interesting rock
And didn't get up.
It's a good day to die
If there is
Such a day
He thought
Somewhat sadly.
Yet strangely
He felt a little better.
It's been something
He said
And closed his eyes.


Sparkle Horse
Is
A ceramic toy
A rock and roll band
A man
Who committed suicide.

The poem is made up.

Kate and Anna McGarrigle

At least
I was stoned

laying
on my couch

listening to
the saddest song

I'd ever heard
in the dark

waiting for
a phone call

I thought
at the time

might
save my life.

Husker Du

I was sitting in a small filthy room
an ugly dude with bad breath was asking me questions
I wouldn't have answered if I knew the answers
a cat was sleeping in the corner
in another room I heard people cheering and moaning
after I didn't respond to about ten of the questions
he and the cat left

a tape played the same song for an hour
I guess
I didn't have a watch
the song was fast and turned way up
I enjoyed it for awhile
after the tape ended the ugly dude and a bigger dude came into the room
they kicked my ass for twenty minutes
and threw me in a dark closet
I sat there
and thought about
my daughter
baseball
my wife's fried eggs and hash (I could almost but not quite smell it when I closed my black eyes)
and killing that mean little mother fucker if I ever get the chance
a couple days later they let me go
I suppose they realized I wasn't the guy they thought I was
and it was easier to let me go then kill me.

The Who

I'm almost
out of paper
and that's
a good thing
because it might
prevent me
from
writing something
that will
embarrass me
in the morning
I'm playing golf
with Billy
and I'll try
to kick
his ass
like he's been
kicking mine
for years
that flew
like a rocket
going straight
nowhere fast
I tried
to record
the rocket's
flight
but couldn't
because
my camera
malfunctioned
before
the rocket
exploded
I lost
my mind
and threw
my putter
into a pond
and had
to use
my two iron
for the rest
of the round
and the whole
damn scene
sounded like
a Who song
from the
opera about
the blind kid
who played
a mean game
of pinball
according to
Elton John
and I thought
a great
pinball player
has to be
the most
inane subject
for an opera
in the long
dubious history
of operas
anyway
I swung
a little
too hard
and watched
the ball
travel
twenty yards
farther than
it had any
right to
toward a
sucker pin
in the
middle
of nowhere
a giant roll
of paper
fell from
the sky
while I
followed
my ball
into a grove
of trees
I thought
maybe I should
write an opera
about the war
in Iraq
from the
perspective
of a chipmunk
with the heart
of a warrior
and the soul
of a philosopher
I found my ball
chipped to a foot
and walked to
the next tee
one down
with two
to play
knowing full well
Billy almost
always birdies
the eighteenth
when he needs to.

Kris Kristofferson

The major said
you wouldn't believe how fucking stupid I am


the night
Crazy Love and the Prophet came to town

Brown Deer lit a pipe
and asked the Major
if he wanted a hit
the Major declined


I'll see your stupidity and raise you a hundred percent
I said


the night
Crazy Love and the Prophet came to town

Billy The Kid
sang
Me And Bobby McGee

and the beer was warm
the whiskey was watered down
the toilet was broken
it was hot as hell I bet
Tom should have been there

the night
Crazy Love and the Prophet came to town
the going up was worth the coming down.

Ramblin' Jack

The thing
I've done
a lot

and don't
miss
the most

is hitchhiking

through the
hot and cold
canyons
of my core

and some other places too.

She didn't
stop.

She just
kept going
up I-17.

So
I sat
on a rock
and thought

oh well
it's only
temporary

and not
so
important.

For I was
undefeated
at the time

and still had
high hopes
for the good times
waiting

around
the bend

for me
to show up

buy
the dope

and sing
Billy The Kid.

Rick Nelson

What's the difference between Bob Dylan and Rick Nelson?
Not much
Except one's the best there ever was
And the other is really good
And
I
Could
Listen to either
All night
And way down into the morning.

It is kind of like the difference between
Hank Aaron
And Robin Yount
Or Bart Starr
And Steve McNair
Or Shakespeare
And Norman Mailer
Or Picasso
And Jackson Pollack.

Not that much
And if you don't believe me
Watch a few Super Bowls
Read Armies Of The Night
And Macbeth
Back to back
Go to a museum
And take a look
Or do the math
755
-
251
=
504
And that's more than I thought
But it doesn't matter
'Cause it's only Rock and Roll.

Kinks

The first time I saw the Kinks at the old decrepit Phoenix Coliseum (a surprisingly excellent place to see a concert) it took Pete and me five hours to hitchhike home.

We walked from the I-17 to Cave Creek Road down Bell.

All of a sudden about an hour after we turned left and headed north a car pulled over and we jumped in and thanked our lucky stars for the kindness of strangers once in awhile.

The only thing I had going for me was my father fired me the previous afternoon so I didn't have to work in the morning.

The cops woke me up about a half hour before my father showed up and said why aren't you at work?

You fired me, I said.
Get your ass in the truck.

The cops thought I robbed a store.

I didn't but I did have a quarter pound of home grown laying in a box on my porch.

They asked if they could look around.
I said no.

They left and an hour later I was wishing I was dead digging a long trench somewhere out in the desert for a house my dad was building.

The next time I saw the Kinks I also saw the Ramones.

After the show I took a cab to my father's second wife's mother's house after watching a girl take off her clothes in a broken building I found in an alley behind the coliseum.

The next morning my father took me to the airport and I flew to Columbus Georgia for jump school.

For the next three weeks I lived in a barracks with no doors, got yelled at a lot, did about ten thousand push-ups, read the Bell Jar, saw the movie First Blood, pulled a shit load of guard duty and if that doesn't prove life plays mean tricks on you nothing will.

Last night I heard Celluloid Heroes on the radio while I drove a crackhead home after waiting in a parking lot of a dive in the way-wrong part of town for ten minutes while he scored I read a couple poems.

Bob Dylan: I Am Tangled Up In Blue And Stuck Inside of Mobile With The Memphis Blues Again

I. Life ain't no rock and roll song
Even if it sounds like one.
I took off
And never came back
Except once
For a funeral
And that don't count.

II. I gave all my money
To a bartender
In a whore house
On the border
While I watched
Rain fall through a window
A girl asked me
What's wrong?

Did you hear that?
I asked.

Come with me
She said.

But I had to go
So I stole a horse
Rode north
Toward the mountains
And something else.

I didn't know what
At the time.

It turned out
To be nothing
But

III. I'm at peace
With my so-called
Wasted life
And that's gotta
Count for something.

Melvins

As I walked out

I thought
I saw
A flying monkey.

It was a bat.

I am never coming back.

While a radio played
Casey Jones
I hummed the chorus
And thought
It's too early
For bats
To be flying around.

A pretty girl walked by.

Do you see any bats?
I asked.

She pointed at the orange
Metallic
Spray-painted
Sky
And said
That's a bird
Dude.

What species of bird
Looks like a monkey
And sings like a bat?
I asked.

Are you okay?
She asked.

It's not that simple,
I said.

X

There is a Los Angeles exit
on the freeway
five miles from my apartment.
I've taken it all the way
once for a Love concert
at a theater in Hollywood.

When I think of LA
I remember a man with one leg
hitting a home-run in the World Series.
A sky hook and a no look pass
Charles Bukowski and Phillip Marlowe
Hacksaw Reynolds
and a black and white album cover
of the letter X burning
in a field at night.

Steve Earle Is An Idiot

I do not need
a fat
ex-jailbird
ex-junkie
high school drop out
lecturing me about politics
or anything else.

That said,
I love the songs man.

Giant Sand

I saw Giant Sand in the Mason Jar
(a gay bar now,
when I told Tom it's a gay bar
he laughed and said
it always was)
with Danny.
I yelled Barrio
and they stated to play it
and forgot the words
and said we can't play it.

I read about Giant Sand
in the music section of New Times
about twenty years ago.
I buy their records
when I can find them.
They are hard to find
like perfect sea shells
or good poems in the New Yorker.

The other day I was listening to
Ballad Of A Thin Line Man
when Penny came home from school.
I could tell she didn't like it
so I turned it way down
and then off.
Giant Sand needs to be played loud.
Giant Sand is not for everyone.
Something exceptional rarely is.

Golden Palominos

I love the name
Golden Palominos
And when someone
Asks me
Who my favorite band is
I tell them
And they look at me funny
And say
I never heard of them
And that doesn't make me feel
Smart or cool,
Just a little weird
And kind of lonely.

For A Stupid Conceited Bitch

The weirdest thing about you standing me up
Is I was more upset about not giving my brother a ride home from the golf course
'Cause I was supposed to have something to do than I was about you not showing up.

My sister in law came and picked him up.

That's what made me feel stupid.

Well Rounded Afternoon

I was reading a book
About Francis Bacon
As I watched a football game.

The Packers got killed.

According to the book Bacon was kind of a genius.
For what it's worth
The pictures of his paintings
In the book are pretty good.

The text was hard to understand
Yet I kept on reading
Like a malfunctioning machine
That I couldn't turn off
unplug or blow up.

Traffic Jam

Tall
Blue
Glass
Building
Against a backdrop
Of lighter blue sky

Shadows
From another building
Turn
The blue
Gray
On the corner
Of Third Street and Earl.

When The Cloud Disappeared

I counted
Seventeen thousand stars
A bunch of trees
Too many birds
Twelve beers
You
And me
And Anna Lee
Sitting beside a fire.

Our fire broke camp

And swilled around the trees

And painted everything black.

The last thing
I remember
Is laying
On the grass
Laughing
At the moon
Laughing
At me.

Last Laugh

I had a lot
Of time
On my hands
In 2008

While

I was
Flipping houses
And banging
A stripper
From the club
I went to
Almost every night
To have a few drinks
Watch a little basketball
And listen to club music.

Alas

She was
Too good
For me
And we both
Thought that
At the same time
And she smiled
And I laughed
And handed
Her a purse
I picked up
At the mall
And we were both
Happy for a while
But nothing lasts
And she eventually
Had enough of me.

So I started up
With a lesser stripper
Until the boom
Busted
And I left the city
With my head up my ass
And a million dollars
In the bank.

One Thousand Years Ago

I lost you in a train station
The year before I was born
While I looked for a cigarette machine
You rolled away.

I found you in a cornfield
Ten years after
I was shot in the neck
And bled out on a frozen rock
Burring from the middle out
In both directions
How can it do that? You asked.
I didn't know.
Follow me, I said.
We ran into the woods,
Hopped a creek
And got attacked by mosquitoes.

One thousand years before
Everything happened
I think it happened again.

Marlboro Light

I couldn't
Figure out
How to turn
Desire
Into art.

I took
A drag
Off of
A cigarette
And threw it
Into a lake.

I hit
A perfect
Golf shot
And felt great
Until
I missed the putt.

If I knew
The answer
I'd ask.
I don't.
So I don't.

Poetry

I read this shit twice.
Three times.
Sometimes four.
I don't understand much.
A sentence.
A phrase.
So why do I read it?
Because I want to understand?
But why?
When there is so much that is easily understood
And as good or almost as good
As this shit
I pore
Over
And over
All night
In my cab
Thinking
What the fuck.
I could be reading
Lonesome Dove again.

Less Is More

On the breezeway
Whatever that is
But it sounds
Like a nice place
To sit
(If you have a warm jacket
A nice hat
And fine leather gloves)
And read
A long book
About the IRA
On this
Quiet
Starless night
I watch a stripper
Or a naked girl
I have no idea
What she does for a living
Dance to the sound
Of birds long gone
South for the winter
Of my discontent
Chirping like
Charlie Parker
Wailing in a bar
A long time ago
I resolved
To never
Look a gift horse
In the eye.

Whatever It Takes

When you
Turned
On me
At four thirty
This morning.
I felt more
Alone
Then if
You were
Already gone.



What’s
Worth looking at
Is her ass
Swaying gently
To the sound
Of lousy music
Playing in the
Background.



Four o’clock in the afternoon
I’m going to bed

My baby’s in Chicago
I’m in the desert
Listening to Muddy Waters
Crawlin’ down a foothill

A snake in my backyard
Two coyotes hanging on a tree

My daddy’s a great man
Just like me

Might climb a little mountain
Might rob a bank
Might look for a job
Might catch that rattlesnake


Too many jerk offs sitting at the bar
Not enough humanity hanging around this war zone
Too much long division
Not enough simple addition in your tone of voice while we sit around drinking wine and discussing our future
Too many rivers to cross
Not enough light to get it done before dark
Too much
Not enough
What the fuck
Am I supposed to do
Too many trees
Not enough sun pouring through



I howled
Like a wounded dog
At the invisible moon
I came home wet
You made me
A bacon sandwich
And said
Baby you have to
Stop beating yourself up



It has been a long hard road through rain and snow and wind. I haven't given up and that's something I guess.

I will

I will
Wait
On the bluff
Beside
The river
Forever
For you to walk
Out of the fog.

I will
Cross
Oceans of time
Walk across
The frozen beach
Through
A cold north wind
To the lighthouse
And back
To find
You again.

I will
Drive
Across the country
Find you
In a cave
In the desert
And tell you
I am sorry
For treating you
Like a queen.

Love

Love isn’t supposed
To be perfect.

Love just hangs around
To make us less lonely.

And feel real bad.
How do you feel baby?

Not so hot I bet.

My Father My Brother And I

We
Love
Dogs
And
Dope
And
Golf
And
Laying
On
The
Couch
Watching
Football
What
We
Fear
Most
Is
Running
Out
Of
Smokes
On
Holidays
After
Dinner
We
Get
Drunk
And
Yell
At
Each
Other

Julia

Julia calls late and
Tells me that
I’m her north star.
She grew up in a small town
Outside of Boston.

She’s a hairdresser.

The best this side of the train tracks and
There’s at least ten.

Julia has a wooden leg
A perfect nose and
Straight teeth. But she’s
Awful sad
Sadder than me and
I’m sad enough.

Her father’s a cheap
Mean
Little
Prick.
The first time I met Julia’s mom
She got mad 'cause I wouldn’t kiss her.

The old goat.

I shook her hand.
That was bad enough.
I’m not your north star
I say.
Yes you are.
I’m thankful for that
One of us says.

At two AM
You sometimes
Need someone
To tell you passionate lies
With a forked tongue.

Julia is one of the best storytellers
In the world and
I always listen

And I always will
Until she gets tired of the telling.

When The Sun Goes Down

It's a lot easier
To hit you

Than rub your shoulders
Or buy you roses
Or listen to your stories.

Reprise

You’re talking like a man with a paper asshole - my father said.
I handed him a beer.
We were driving down Wisconsin Avenue.
I was on leave.
If you can’t make it in the Army you can’t make it anywhere - my father said.

Playing country music is easier than fucking a black girl - my father said, sat at my keyboard and played Tonight I Started Loving You Again.
I can play this shit with a broken arm drunk on my ass, good thing too, he added and laughed.

Some of the best dope in the world resides in Nashville - My father said and poured scotch in a glass.
So you’re moving there - I asked.
Have to, I need a job.

My father visited me in jail once.
You’re a fucking idiot - he said and smiled - how’s your mother?
What do you care - I asked.
I still care about your mother - he said.
Well she doesn't care about you anymore. I don’t know why she ever did.