pirate cone

i've included to your right a link to jake speed's "speedy delivery", a weekly topical song from cincinnati's best-loved red-haired high school english teacher. it looks like the cliftones will be recording one with him soon. huzzah!

art of the mix tape

1. ohio river waltz - jake speed and the freddies
2. at
3. terraplane blues - paul pena
4. gules
5. mal hombre - lydia medozza
6. drunkard's special - coley jones
7. yankle
8. movement III., quartet no. 15 in a minor - beethoven
9. hora
10. idumea - sacred harp singers at liberty church
11. a change is going to come - sam cooke
12. hesitation blues - doc & merle watson
13. it wasn't god who made honky tonk angels - kitty wells
14. mentsh
15. dry bones - boscom lamar munsford
16. while my lady sleeps - chet baker
17. bad luck and trouble - lightnin' hopkins
18. one too many mornings - bob dylan
19. shpeyt
20. movement V. louange à l'éternité de jésus - quartet for the end of time - olivier messaien
21. en gallop - joanna newsom

midsummer nights' dreams

ive had vivid, narrative dreams lately. i cant remember all the details naturally, but a few of the brightest images. in one my jazz band was playing a version of "whoopin' blues" that is on a eureka brass band record. it is one of those tunes where the band plays a lick together and the whole energy of the band and the crowd unite and bursts out uncontrollably. what a band eureka is.
in another moment i was playing something like a giant organ, and i was leading what felt like the whole of the united states in singing a slowed down meaningful version of "america". i dont think its square to be patriotic the way i am. maybe old fashioned.
last night i dreamt i was living in the woods in a tent. i think the rent was pretty low. you, lauren, and some other folks were living in the same woods a bit away in a building, and i would come over to use shower and kitchen or whatever a concrete building had to offer. we were together in a room where there was a couch. someone had spilled some food all over the couch; it looked like a curry-based something with peas in it. you, lauren, laid down on the couch, unknowing, and got it in your wonderful hair. i felt bad that i wasnt able to prevent it. but later on i ran into an affluent looking fellow walking in our woods, and he said that he had been looking at our blog and wanted to provide us with funding to continue and expand our ventures, because he thought there should be greater emphasis on our brand of publication. i felt good when i told you the news. dreams can be very affirming.

i have been away from this for a while because i have been working 6 days a week. everything runs together when you are occupied. i have thought every day about writing poetry or stories or anything, so it feels like i have been involved, even if i havent. i wanted to say thank you for letting me visit, and i wish it could have been longer. also, extend my thanks to ryan for the direction to the website. being a social creature is much easier with friends like yours.

unknown to me, there was a brief video recording of my jazz band 'the cliftones' made at the breakdown gig in june. one of banjo dave's friends made a forty second clip from the middle of one of our hymn tunes and put it on youtube.com. famous. so if you go to youtube and lookup 'cliftones' and 'southgate' it will pop up. it is a little strange coming in at the end of a solo, but you get the idea. note the ceiling fan, girls in dresses, standing room only, and benny the tuba player.

and they did it for...

and this one-she told me about visiting her mom in the hospital
she met a man who sang and played violin for all the bed-ridden patients
another-he made pornos in california for low budget queer groups who were sick of seeing misogyny sprayed on the faces of prepubescent girls
one told me to pray for the money to buy a birthday tattoo that ragged on Socrates and a fatal plant, half-resembling carrots.
she-she would have packed her bags and moved to alaska, arizona, maine...told me i was the emergency number for the four year old
he made me laugh when i pointed a phaser light tickler at his belly
told him "to just call out my name..." and i'd bring him chocolate and cake, hydrogenated oils, fried foods on sticks, high fructose corn syrup to get him to leave his daddy.
and they, they shared wine in dark rooms, lit everything red and swore on dead white men the fourth of july wasn't going to come this year.
and fortunately...it was we, we who collided and remembered what each day was for

the heart laughs for you slowly like cool mint drinks waiting for the sun to go down cigarette papers to burn

you, wandering through my garden lost devastated

plaintain leaves and jewelweed my allergy skin dances uncontrollably

and you, tame and heal the way

when it hurts more to feel better stings like nettle wish it were creosote

melting

burning in the heart of it all

well. its been too long. here is evidence of work, play, and a little bit of entropy.

art is for the imagination.

my head is dead now.