i awake to find its raining
i lie in bed trying to remember who
and where i am
i remember yesterday
working down the studio with ricky
i sometimes think ricky might be a fictional character..
voice from another room : hes too bloody good to be true
i remember how we first met
the church had done a gig in mexico
things had gone wrong
our bus was hi jacked by a gang of acid crazed marxist students
ricky who was only 15 at the time
had garroted the leader with a bass A string
and led us out via a tortuous secret path
to a field of peyote mushrooms
where we got higher than the son
he also had a good supply of primo no-cal purples
plus a case of cold beer for the crew
that night ricky and i became blood brothers
and we have a tatoo that joins up
to form a map of the fire exits at winterland ballroom
sure enough when i had arrived there he was
sorting it all out and drinking a cawfee
i had to touch him to see if he was really real
hey whoah !he said as i pinched his arm
dude i'm for real....you outta pinch yourself!
i took his advice
cant remember the result
we worked on our david neil stuff
i cant wait to get back home n play it to you
gee its rollicking heartbreaking catchy spooky stuff
god maybe i should really take it easy
god maybe i should lay off all the bad stuff
god maybe i should add a little more plate reverb to that damn tambo
god are you listening to me
god is your name vishnu or jehovah
god when will i be rich?
god when will i be young?
god please make my death painless
god please make it a long way off in the fewcha
god oh look i'll speak to you later
i was at any rate alone in a garden
a lovely edenic garden
it was raining but it was summertime
oh summer summer summer
i sing my line from my little operetta
umbrella trees down by the sea
limbs like men to bend low
and you see me....
i muse on my song for a while
thought of all the people who would never hear it
it was a song
thats all it could ever be
yes i would paint david neil
kathy ? i called out in her garden
she came out of the kitchen looking tired
i say kathy you look tired...
no not tired steven ...old
dont gimme that olde stuff k..i'm even older than you..
but its different for men...
how is that?
i dont know ..you n esteban with your beards...
you girls with all your hair long n lustrous
but steven its GRAY!!
she turned her face into the sun
i remember ed that rod stuart song
the morning sun when its in yer face really shows yer age
kathy says slim i dont wanna get olde and die
we look at each other
no one fucking does , k...eh? or what?
women seem to have more to go wrong with their lives...
but they live longer...dont they
yes in an almost manless world in some village..
we were depressing each other
c'mon darling i love you i said
i held her against me
she always slightly resisted or pulled away
why do you do that? i whisper in her ear
because youre always just mucking about ..she says
and gently pushes me away
here esteban gave you this
she held out a book
inside the book was a little envelope full of goodies
wow! i said
you two should grow up kathy said
but you like us like this i said
no she said
i cant remember seeing either of you
any other way
kathy walked off to trim her roses or whatever
i sat at their table in the garden
in the early morning lightest drizzle
i looked at the book my twins other half had given me
valentines day 2009 it was called
why thats tomorrow i thought
as i sipped my cawfee
as i sipped my mango date banana strawberry smooothie
as i sipped my argentinian special jazz cigarette
as i ruminated deep in the suburbs of buenos aires
as i listened to david neil on my headphones
as i walked with jesus christo in my heart of hearts
as i painted buddha deep in the city in my minds eye
as i boogaloo-ed up broadway
as i remained detached
as i remained attached to detachment itself
as i was all over the shop
and nowhere to be found
i opened up the magic realists book
and i read the first page
i was soon
his winged words