S.B.T. 98

ohgawd yer sow-airs yr backbow-ow-own
yor patheddic itss fffunny
yoo antseennuthn yet yu bet

what do you intend to say? did i hear you correctly? what is that vernacular you are employing towards a lady such as this man standing before you oh lillow kwating

aw cmon yer alla buncha ssissssseeees with bookins up yer beehives
entertainin the flat out empty bucket yu callyer brai-ai-ai-ain
say hmm like swingblade hmm hmm deep gravelly hmmm atchyer own speed
that mayght be a lillybit fastr thenna lame duck cheese zeez zooz

i beg your pardon

hawtherne mah frend uvthuh sevn googles yoo is dumm butchoo aint really dat dumb isya?

well i would have to say that i have endured i mean enjoyed a fine education zorba taught me to dance

and jess wayer didgereedoo edgyvacation gitcha eh? a bellyfulla bullsheet in case-ya ddnt notiss wyatts spillin all outter ya raht theyer outta-yer nose
ever ta-a-i-me yoo breezthez innen out lahka wawlrush por thang yo shur r a sawry ix qoos
ferra hee-oo-min bean and yea i sawr yew dancin with zorber an yoo was one sawry skinned leaf ablowin in the wind yer legs wur lahk eightofem lahk a spyderr

excuse me, could we have the butler get us some drinks

thers no buttkissin butteller here mah frenn jussthat homosay peon grinnin idjit ohver thayer yer conehead paytriot with the ducktape ohveriz piehole

perhaps i might trouble that gentlefellow crossing with the teacup, the one who has the monocle rather large thick almanac under his armpit. excuse me, excuse me sir...

(looks up the face’v monsterconster nation ‘yes’ he says flattone some suckyou bus gotta holda his vokal kords, hops a stiff back pbs look anna pen inniz lapelle, wearing a tan-tweed-woolen...

lemme see them cullers boy-oy (reaches out for the sleeve

‘what are you doing’ indigninny fied nanospeck

jest like ah thawt. hmmm its got every culler x-septically black an awlluh the cullers have whi-i-i-ite innem an theres a lotter redngreen gowin awn that kansells each otherrr outn makes that thang look brow-ow-n jess like ah thawt

‘would you please take your hands off of my coat?’

excuse me i don’t mean to interrupt. i wish to ask you a question....

oh spittittout will ya geezis krishner cantcha pull yer porthole offa that broomstick
yoo guys r so griddam slow-oh-oh yer makin me fawllasleeeep

would you mind shutting up for a minute?

wood eye mine? would eye mine? if enny f yas has ennythin ta say well i’d be moron glad to but since yer brain got late fer-the-train imma jess tryin to pas throo time yah know its gonna be the same time a little later awn an then a little later then that onnin on til infinite tea for two two for tea me for you you for me anna la la lee

i just want to know where i can get a drink

oh awl raht i’ll git one fer ya but dontchoo be sendin me enny of those little thank yoo cards

S.B.T. 97

string players who would do something like play a bach score using different notes than were written just because they like the sound could play this. also hopefully the viola and the violin can read their parts in the chord and still get along.



a child walking alone on the mountain
just outside of pont-de-luc october
carrying a bag w/old shoes and wax letters
bends to pick a golden wish flower

swish a sound

a centaur emerged from brambles leading a pack of dogs
brushing his forehead and smiles
they speak in romanie language
come dance with us
vino cu noi de dans
they dance until
stillness
in the meadow
comes rising

nightfingers reach and wrap around
the handle
the overhead door
whispers softly and closes
şopot uşa încet şi se închide

an envelope folding in woodlands falling
arpeggio shadows asleep in starlight
fair winds twirl over all there is to know
how faerietears fall to the ground
to startle the cricket
and sweeten the roses

xxx

S.B.T. 96

harmony and rhythm come natural to ears because cochlea pick up on heartbeat
bloodsurge waves and tides inside out deamplfied to a kind of humming. no place like home why not revert back to the inner ear liquid and slosh thump
thump sound made out of water. the electro snapparattus eye bleeps and sparks according to whatever forces flow to and float synapses between invisiblue trees, even with utmost discipline in place. in space smooth rhumba feels good doctor, deep regular thumping and/or harmonic fifths especially. (the rhumba was what they came for - close encounters of the 3rd kind) major or minor works if there is a beat to follow. go on dance with the gypsies tonight. oh it is searing red flickers offah fire for sure and lines made by light on the water form 'C's & seas and seize and sees...this is like being put to sleep some kind of babydoll sleeping potion. yeah the rhythm takes over and suddenly im inna diffrent place brainwavewise. oh yeah that song feels good and while it lasts im gonna sssstick with it. but then, theres an glazy lullaby aspect oh what is that thing, that independent isolated flame on the tip of the parched twig, that being, that you in there. off off well it turns something over too, like dirt hurled from a ditch cutting a groove thing, but the gypsy pants are being washed because of a wine red punchstain on the backbeat. theres no usual rhythm here. hmm must be the moon.

S.B.T. 92

imo jesse winchester is a great songwriter. a balladmaster like stephen foster.
much less celebrated here perhaps because of the years in canada in the 70’s he flew away just before the draft carried him to s.e.asia with no time for conscientious objecting. he wrote some beautiful songs there. i wave bye bye and wander my way home by jesse winchester


relax your eyes to listen

though he was most known for his songs set in the south a century and a half ago, stephen foster lived most of his life in a small town in pennsylvania. he made just one journey to the south in his lifetime, and that was on his honeymoon trip. he wrote his very last song ‘beautiful dreamer’ in 1864 just a few days before he died in poverty with only thirty eight cents in his pocket.
in the 1930’s film ‘harmony lane’ foster sells all rights to it for 25 dollars cash.

and roy orbison
and while you are there check out the beatles rare rock version

xxx

S.B.T. 88

wait a minute, it must be true, those madison avenue guys started the whole thing(if you try this link and an ad comes up just click on 'skip this ad' to get to the free streaming full episode list of 'mad men'). playtex, american airlines, upscale department stores, just plain shots of single malt lunches, looks like fun. powerful fun.

i remember a professor of art history saying ‘the medicis are on madison avenue these days’ it was just after the NEA cut off grant funding to individual artists, gone in a wink an era of support for the arts. ahem, has anyone seen the orphan act these days? hello...

i was visiting a friend yesterday, she has to do several different kinds of art in several what most would see as ‘unrelated’ mediums or art forms ha ha that really gets me into hysterics to make a *good* living. she does cartoons, pages in a magazine, writes articles, makes jewelry, paints furniture, murals, paintings, publishes her own calendars, posters, greeting cards, sews unusual fascinating ‘bags’ that sell in boutique shops, just to name a few. a 24/7 full overtime occupation. i asked her, "what would you do if you had to choose only one of these mediums?" it didnt take a second for her to answer but i wont reveal what the answer is.

then she asked me. i had to think about it. lets see, the lesser of two or multiple evils ha ha, what would that be? seeing as i started my art ca-career (thanks Pat) before the age of five, and it was multidisciplinary from the getgo, i never thought it would be neccessary to choose just one but oh there is an indominate dictum somewhere that quite literally demands a cutoff point. which is the more of good and lesser of two evils? do this, or do that but whichever way, you cannot always do exactly what you must. i reiterate leondardo da vinci and how nobody ever told him to stick to drawing figures. not that i am a leonardress but to elucidate a point hold the egomaniacal kneejerk incheck

get real. thats what my biggest boss told me before i finally chose the lesser of two evils and left him to his love affair with designy commodities. the next boss seemed like the lesser of two evils but then i found out that evils are pretty much well spread around evenly. but once a precious long time ago i had a boss i really liked

i’m not ashamed anymore of being around poverty level. I get state health insurance with fed backing but. just try to find a doctor. my car is old but has four wheels and runs cause i always do the oil change thing, and we are friends. my friends worry about my future some of them. but thats because they have children or mortgages. my mother still tells me i am like the praying mantis with the fiddle, is that it? you know the wise ants and squirrels gather up food supplies for winter and this guy just fiddles all summer long. then in the winter.....well have mercy.

worry is a waste of energy. it doesnt change anything. being content with what is, the lesser of two evils.

the photograph is my father, at age seventeen, his high school grad picture. it doesnt show that he had grey eyes because of the sepiatone. he was a musician at heart but he made a living teaching industrial arts in a public high school. he always made me feel like i was born for a reason. just like diane warren dad, i love you xxx