Cut-up for Laz…
A very good friend of mine sent this poem to eight people.
He asked us to fill in every third line with simple sentences, whatever we feel…
It was such a wonderful gift. More people should practice this.
So here is what I wrote.
Why blame it on me?
I walk down yer country roads.
I have the berry stained fingertips as proof.
I didn’t write the music.
Take me unhome, mountain mama.
Just keep groomin’ that blind bitch, stank ass dog of yours.
You won’t face the fact that there is a holy war moving upon the planet Earth.
And Iran faces towards the lamb.
And the lamb is set for the slaughter.
I just watched the shit flow downstream.
Turning veils to wine. Turning sails to vine.
If my lawyer were my lover this fairy tale would have been front page news
What do you think is gonna happen when I get out of here?
Look close and you can find the metal pieces of what made me a modern man. If I were you…The wicker man cinders to stone.
I might be ashamed of that…for not being more perceptive.
Talc to bone.
It could happen. It has happened before. How do you know it is not me?
Do you feel guilty?
Go ahead, stick your fingers through the holes in my hands.
And the tee shirt reads “Been there, Done That…” stretched across these big fake tits you paid for.
Get in line, we’ll live.
Meet me in a foxhole in the badlands of Montana.
Bring a box of condoms that we won’t open, a case of Pabst and your toothbrush.
All Charlie’s friends get the free coke.
So let’s teach the world to sing.
In Chinese.
They are trying to get out from beneath the burning monk.
Where does your responsibility lie?
In China?
Everyday, Pinnochio.
It don’t take me to tell you you’re about ten pounds overweight.
Just sit there and cut the fucking coupons, at the kitchen table, in front of the television. Somewhere.
Inbetween.
In Tokyo.
Shinjuku, Kichijoji… there’s a Krispy Kreme in the food alley of Yurakucho.
That alley is where I live.
Can you ever say no?
Dive into the quarry my son.
What you do is your affair.
You live outside the law. You die within the flaw.
Even your great grandmother attempted to drown a woman at the lake and went to jail.
Prison is in the mind.
Unjig the saw.
Just pretend to be dancing with him or leave him be.
No. No. No. I’m helping the blind man.
How’s your faith today, fathered?
Honest? Like airport security.
Words have many meanings and they lean on each other.
It is all true for my knife and children.
”Red Dawn” contemporaries waiting for the moment when the goose down seeps from Jennifer Grey’s jacket.
The outlaw must be honest with himself.
I place gunpowder behind my ears and upon my neck.
Then face the door and wait.
I live in places you’ve never even dreamed of…
Never never, ever ever, sever severland.
Never-Neverland and even Wendy found that in the morning.
It’s hard to even remember breakfast.
And break some eggs between my legs.
Fry some bacon and pitch the hot grease at the neighbors cats over the garden wall.
Believe me, if I started murdering people, there’d be none of you left.
You should see the quarter-drawing of your dog.
That dog with it’s bows and ribbons, its ridiculous poofs and curls, that dog that sucks at your breast.
Do you feel guilty that your mind has blood on it?
Strawberry Fields Forever.
Crimson and Clover… red rover red rover.
I could go to Death Valley and hide but never get away from politics.
And the hole about ostrich is just weak.
Adriano, another beer please… and oh, to accessorize with the ink on your arm…
Do you want this wedding ring I have with all these Xs on it?
