Spur In The Main Road

There is no blame.
Doesn't even matter.
There is no deciding.

It just comes about.

Here we've arrived.
Unable to explain.
Reading our minds.

Distressed frustration.

Silent on the relevant.
Off in another direction.
Spur in the main road.

The more important road.

North by northeast.
Veering only slightly.
On into the night.

Lights still seen for awhile.

Then the cold creekbeds.
Faint through the trees.
Disappearing and gone.

Independence is wild.

Artichokes

Evidently, he was six two.  Been to Rome and surrounding towns.  Unending talking about gypsy tea, beef fajitas, military culture, and dining room dynamics.  Two bottles of wine sat almost empty on their advertisement filled table top.

The artichokes were good this evening, flavorful and firm.  The chicken, usually a bit rubbery, was rubbery again.  Crusty bread and marinara is the actual reason people continue to come.  Bring your own blush wine.

On and on, croutons, cheap friends, international connections, McDonald Street directions, the woman never talked.  'Love and marriage, go together like a horse and a carriage, let me tell you brother, can't have one without the other.'  Italians must tap their toes for hours.  Absurdity, it is an epidemic.  Self help gurus and the power of positive thought.  Begin with the end in mind, 5 years, a decade, whatever is reasonable.  Must do it myself, declare my own life, in service to others.  This floating is nice.

Then more nonsense:  check confusion, wedding financials, impaired driving jokes, New Year well wishes.  A peace hovered finally.  The six two dude left, walking with an old limp.  He was not six two.  His young fiance and lonely bald friend along with him, it was quiet enough to hear the music now.  Sinatra, still cool, big band backing.

In Those Future Days

(Intro)  D7Gx2

D7.                       G.

Just gonna be older.

D7.                        G.

Not much glory in that.

C.                            G

Just gonna be greyer.

D7.            C.       G.

No more baby fat.

Maybe we'll be wiser.

Learn the hard way.

Maybe we'll be calmer.

In those future days.

(Verse solo)

Tomorrow might be great.

Got a Bob Schneider show.

Probably make it safely.

You never really know.

But if I die tonight.

And If I never wake.

Be glad I lived today.

Before it's just too late.

(Verse solo)

Now we are alive.

There's really no doubt.

We can dance and sing.

We can jump and shout.

Maybe we'll be wiser.

Learn the hard way.

Maybe we'll be calmer.

In those future days.

(Verse solo)

(Last line x4 out)

Tilted And Spun

Each yank of the chain, each sideways remark, each twist of reality.  Only natives walk through here.  The funny man and his tribe, like a melting glacier, like the northern lights we've seen in pictures and films.  In the night they flash and glow, they jump and blink.  Mother nature has her own ways, in her own time, for her own reasons.

Humans awoke today.
Then slumbered.
Hungered and loved.
Seasonal reasons.
Tilted and spun.
Made in the shade.

Grouching and goosing and glamourous looks, the world waits for no one.  Tomorrow is just tomorrow, but it will be a miracle too.  An improbable perfect day.  A gasoline dream.  A mosh pit.  No more than a snap crackle shot.  Consciously physical, mentally wandering, spiritually connected. 
 

Twangs And Denton Stories

The back roads worked again.  Old North, came in from the railroad tracks.  Like a speed train, balling from the east.

The winter solstice was just about to reach its climax.  All the stars were covered in clouds, they went unseen.  Life is short.

The lounge was quiet and calm, nothing like the blues of weeks ago.  More normal, more safe.  Found a circle, joined a party.

Sweet singer opener with a mysterious Stratocaster player.  Foot pedals and wha wha's.  High notes on that Townes tune.

Then bags, then pipes, then another alone night.  Stay away dark energy, go to your own place, suffocate.  Without air.

A wired night, twangs and Denton stories.  JT is a friend, just call out his name, he'll come running.  To see you again.

At midnight the place is a hush, peaceful and quaint.  Someone owns all this, someone banks.  Like a glorified high.

Apple On A Chain

Threw it to the canyon floor.
That apple on a chain.
No use for him anymore.
He's just too damn lame.

Spent a year on dinner dates.
Drove from here to there.
At least he usually paid.
Thought he really cared.

Confused a boy for a man.
Just couldn't keep his cool.
Island cougar, leather tanned.
Story of a tool.

Threw it to the canyon floor.
That apple on a chain.
No use for him anymore.
He's just too damn lame.

aaea
eeaa
aaea
edaa

20/20 Gonzo 13: The Local Disco

Somehow we made it in to the House Chamber, me and Bobby McGee.  Crowds and mobs in the hallways were chanting loudly and in unison, they had chosen sides.  On one side, "Go Nads!! Go Nads!!", they were cheering for New York Democratic Congessman Robert Nadler.  On the other side, "Go Mert!!  Go Mert!!", they were cheering for Texas Congressman Louie Gohmert.  Some sort of fight was about to go down.

Surprisingly, the House Chamber was mostly empty.  We were expecting an all out brawl, guess the Nadler/Gohmert fight was happening later in the afternoon.  Like Romero, the bull-fighter in The Sun Also Rises, there was alot of formality involved.  Then the elected officials started taking turns on the microphones, everyone was calling everyone else their "good friend from (insert state)", the "aisle" was repeatedly discussed, they were loud, they were insulting, they were orderly.  The carpet was obnoxious, in God they all trusted.

We kept waiting, eventually we got bored, Bobby was asleep near the C-Span camera operator, who was also asleep. No surprise, the previous night was wild and weird.  On our way home from a night out at the local disco, we had abandoned our car near a flooded swamp outside of town, it just quit working.  The five mile walk back was smelly, soggy, and somewhat dangerous.  Figure I'll wake her when this Nadler and Gohmet fight starts, her body, mind, and spirit need the rest.

Historically True

Clash,
The confused will understand.

Cling,
Your interpretation is enough.

Crunch,
Make the high wire acts squirm.

Clutch,
Hold on like life itself is at stake.

Cause,
The effect will take care of it all.

Clear,
No other conclusion to draw.

Cried,
Made sure someone could hear.

Cross,
Proclaimed and historically true.

Side Street Chaos

Terrible it was.
Houston traffic and its side street chaos.
Even Chevy Chase was a nightmare.
People walking dogs, honks, pot holes.
Through a Ward, then the University.
Brazen attempts, lives put at risk.
They didn't care.

Gowns and caps were everywhere.
Bicycles.
They must all be prepared.
Certified, by the power vested in them.
From the State of Texas.
Hereby declared.

Bake the grits to get that good grit flavor.
Sopped it all up with a toasted baguette.
Poor shrimps, a bit overcooked.
A bloody Bloody Mary for the occasion.
When in Rome.
Find a foolish Roman.

Can't hide out forever.
Can't ride out forever.
Together, forever, Amen.

20/20 Gonzo 12: Superiority Complex 10

Asking and answering questions all in one, a weird way to give a speech.  Everyone was quiet, trying to follow the logic, but there was nothing coherent, just confusion and frozen faces.  Evidently, teaching constitutional law is only for geniuses, but these people seem challenged, like explaining it is impossible.  Too smart to make any sense, but too brilliant to be doubted.  Gibberish, mostly.

The spies are still there, blowing horns and blabbing on the side, trust is nowhere.  News conferences to explain news conferences, podiums and wooden hammer downs.  Let the lady speak, man!  These speed readers never get to the point, just wanna get the empty words recorded in the record--"So ordered."  Manners aside, this is a foolish way to operate.

It is impressive to pray for someone every single day and to have no hate in your heart for anyone.  A sure sign of human endurance mixed with the power of the Holy Spirit or sure evidence of massive Superiority Complex 10.  Probably the prayers are expedited, maybe the prayers are directly spoken to God, perhaps God is a voter too.  The campaigning never stops, they will fight for you, God wants them to lead, the future of justice and decency is at stake.  Superiority Complex 10 can be cured with a trip to the mirror maze at the fun house, where hypocrites cry.

Brewing Slow

After all, the crumbs are enough.
Without the circumstance and pomp.
A more genuine existence of contentment.
Tolerating and allowing for most things.
Involved in few matters of importance.
Avoiding serious talks and damnations.
Pop a light in here, see what can be seen.
This inevitable karma is brewing slow.
Shock breeds more shock.
Madness breeds more madness.
Sadness breeds more sadness.
And they are all raised up to endure.

Sang some blues about heaven and confession, about boom towns and prize fights, about being left in the city on Hooke Street, about deep blues and being in a spot, about hurricanes and train crashes, about phenomenons and wildcatters, about Elmo's dad and WWII.

Texas Slim showed up, the sax player charmed the place, drummers were all over, spinning sticks and waiting to jump on the kit.  The keyboard player had style and a flute fluted throughout.  Forest, the bassist, caught the vibe quick and the guitars were the show.  Joe Vee Zee, with the Stevie sound, played as the soul singer in orange swayed.  The teacher took a turn and played some Van and Allmans.  Outside, the road was quiet, the night had slipped into morning.  The limits were reached, and we all escaped.

20/20 Gonzo 11: Ticker Tape

Nothing is new in the news, it's the same Max and Maxine Headrooms, stuttering and looping.  However, everything seems to be breaking, alerts are brightly alerting, outrage is all the rage.  The ticker tape tells the story, the party affiliation, and the Dow Jones Industrial Average.  The musical scores are like laser beams in a space war, shooting and screeching.  Most know it's the same old tune, nothing is new in the news.

"The law must be respected," they blurt, while ignoring laws being disrespected.  It is a shame of a sham for sure, a sorry public spectacle made worse by the assumption of willing ignorance.  These are dumb people, and they are reliant upon dumb people.  Huffing and puffing, and constant interrupting.  Electric blue is the color for the evening, like neon it glows.

The home districts must be a relief, the capital city is full of posturing and positioning.  Staffs with briefs and cases, with movers and shakers, with whistleblowers and rats.  Just another brick in the wall of thought control, another script of drama, another education we don't need.  This public service is for the birds, the double birds.  Now is the time, this is the place, let those birds fly.