whats going on

people
you think we live in a normal world
everything ticking along nicely
you take it all for granted
im 55 and i dont know nothing
i dont know what WW1 was all about...do you...?
yeah yeah archduke ferdinand n all that
i dont know what vietnam was all about either..do you...?
yeah yeah ...the domino theory...
i dont know anything about iraq..oh yeah...the WMDs
i dont know anything about the twin towers..oh yeah al kayda did it
i dont know about global warming..its a lie its not a lie
its fucking hot in australia
but there again its always been hot in summer in australia
everything got such a spin
what is the truth?
i got idiots pestering me about barack obama
look ..did i elect him or give him a nobel prize?
im just a singer in a band...what would i know...?
and what kind of stupid idiot gets his political opinions from a singer
yeah i like obama better than bush
i like the swans better than the roosters
so what?
i did a fucking painting of him called finally a good guy...gee....
so what?
i'm sure hes a puppet just like bush
we gonna have perpetual war cos that makes money
whoever the prez is
why ask me?
the world is run by international bankers
they been runnin' it for a long time
they bring you the wars n depressions n recessions
its built into the system
the good guys are bad guys
the bad guys are reprehensible
and really at the end of the day
we say
fuck it as long as i got my (insert sport or booze or drug or hobby here)
the glorious dead of ww1 turning in their graves
BECAUSE THEY LOST THEIR YOUNG LIVES FOR NOTHING
who killed the kennedys.....yes mick was right..you n me
who killed marilyn and who killed jfk jr?
who killed the amazon forest
who melted the caps
who killed john lennon
who dropped smart bombs on suburbs of iraq
who dropped stupid bombs on london n berlin
who invented mustard gas n agent orange
not me baby
im just a singer in a rocknroll band
i dont know anything
im old n outta touch
the liberals the labours the conservatives the radicals
the anarchists the democrats the g.o.p.
the john birch and the unions and the commies n the druggies
and the whales
and the boat people
and pro anti abortion n gays n the state of israel
and the bible code and the harvesting of the middle class money
i dunno
i just sing songs
i just paint paintings
i write my opinion
but like everyone else
i get my opinion n facts from newspapers n internet
controlled by the same old bunch
everything i know is wrong
george w bush is a caring considerate hero
dick cheney is an altruistic freedom fighter
what would i know
there are you happy
iraq was a good thing
we're giving em freedom but theyre too stupid to know
same with africa and the moon
and the fucking aliens
am i an abductee?
am i an inductee into the rock hall of fame?
do i deserve to be a postman or playing at the mega -dome
its all up in the air
nothing means anything
if you think you know whats going on
cos you watched some news show
which tells ya what you wanna hear
yeah WW1 was a good thing wasnt it
those dead...how glorious are they...?
so glorious gettin' a bayonet thru the chest
or gettin' hung up on barbed wire
or gettin' mustard gassed
glorious!
real glorious
no one can even agree what that war was about
who started it
why
and what was to be gained
no historian or scholar can agree
not even a couple of years after it finished
religion is a joke
christianity has achieved the opposite of all its goals
as had all the other isms
nothing amounts to anything with them isms
more farces n charades
believe me
the fix is in
and its in at the fucking top
but what would i know
im a singer
youd be stupid to believe anything i write here
because i sure dont n cant
so
yeah
keep on rockin in the free world...

...and summer hasnt even really begun...

steve kilbey finds himself in a very shabby motel room
have just played in brisbane where it was 40 degrees inside gig
it was almost sold out
we were good
i had some problems
i put superglue on my finger to protect a blister
and the superglue came off
leaving blister sticky n unprotected
but band played well
thru the heat
the stifling sweaty humid heat
a lively audience
a good show
i musta sweated 2 buckets of ink
now i in this shabbee room
what a lousy shabbie room
everything as cheap as possible
outdoor furniture indoors!
the city palms its called
we call it the sweaty palms
oh well
i aint in it for the glamma
n lucky for me n steve kilbey
i run away from the zoo as soon as im able
i weave my way thru
the ultra drunk youth out everywhere in droves
ultra drunk
ultra no fashion
just a bizarre mix of everything all too small
i lot of em look real stupid i sorry to say
real real stupid
but what would a oldtimer like me know
about street cred on the streets of brizbin
man but they were drunk tho
falling stumbling retching drunk
wow
i find i cant review my own gig
how could i?
we were pretty good tho.... ok ...?
sk

more summer

its unbelievably hot ....ok
everything is sticky
everything sticks to my sore skin
last nite nk found a baby possum about 3 inches long
it had fallen out of its tree
and the ants were at it
she brought it home
and guess who was up at 5 a.m. feeding the creature
and manually stimulating a wee wee
(baby possums cant pee unless they get pressure there !)
so i was on a steep marsupial learning curve
damn little possum is cuter than all get out
like the cutest little grey mouse with big clumsy feet
it was runnin' in n out of my shirt sleeves last night
then it had a long snooze up there on my arm
yeah i fell in love with it
today the wildlife people are coming to take him away
boy i hope the possum makes it
cos he was lookin' fucked up when he arrived
his trees just round the corner in a park
this morning flew up to coolangattta in qld
then drive to byron bay in nsw
dunno how to describe byron
an old hippy haunt over run by money and schoolkids
what would i know?
i come here once every ten years for one night
a lotta comings n goings between sydney n byron tho
lotta to-ing n fro-ing for the more cosmic types
sydneys just so big
byrons just so small
so ya oscillate
today byron is fuckin' hot
i have a very small hot room opening on to balcony
the sun is beating down like a real sod
somewhere a sea breeze strikes up
but such is the architecture that i catch none of it
tonite the church
laddies n gennlemen
the church
30 not out
not out by a long shot
better than ever
now with new improved Music
same old but differentially the same
rehearsing all week
playing n singing
ooh my throat n fingers are sore
waiting in this heat for soundcheck
my face stings from the sweat
is this old age then...to become more n more hyper sensitive..?
i can see that tropical fuckin' breeze
in the palm trees but i cannae feel it
what a bizarre world
we spin thru space they say
our sun spins thru space
a ball of rock with some big puddles
carts its own atmosphere round with it
like the life of the party
we got a load of species down here
humans are the dominants
and old white guys are the dominant dominants
(unfortunately not including this old white guy)
its all engineered
what can we believe
we had a million years o'war
we killed a gazillion women children n beasts
we killed whole jungles n forests n seas n mountains
we killed whole species off for the fucking fun
some of us display amazing god like propensities
some of us are much much worse than any animal
any other animal that is
we dont know what we are
we dont know where we going
out of all this
springs some 20th century pop culture
it spawns me
here i sit in byron bay( writing to you)
a singer in some veteran rock band
i look good for 55 but i still look 55
in the autumn days but its summer outside
and i burn for you to write this doggerel
that drips from my pen
all that past spat me up here
waitin' to soundcheck my monstrous bass guitar
well tonite i gonna rock then
rock for nineveh
rock for the amazon
rock for my little possum
rock for elevated masters
rock for cosmic hippies
rock for any good cause you got n none of the bad ones
no rock for the bavarian illuminati
rock for vishnu
rock for the ...ah...rocks...why not...?
its all connected
you may not like it
but we are all connected
there is an incredible creator who created us creatures
we are fucking creatures, you and i
and this unbelievably groovy cat they call god
well he dreampt this all up
hes still dreaming it up
seems love can affect the dream
seems like love is the simplistick answer after all
not love like you love yer girlfriend or mum neither
a wild glorious inchoate love that keeps the planets
on their courses
that regulates everything within its wonderful system
i saw that last night in my possum
tonite: the great northern hotel byron bay

ah..the first mosquito just showed up!

carpark of broken dreams

summer is king
the king is mad
in the hotted up nighttime
cigarette lighter
a business card
a phony ID
gun in the upholstery
the sun turns into a lipstick red disc
as it majestically descends down the mountains sides
editor baby chop me outta line
im hurting for this not to end
i go down on my knees but its no good to try
the immortals are down in the woods
balmoral beach midsummer night dream
in another life i park my car
the chips have gone cold
the drinks have gone warm
the kids have grown up
the fools have wised up
baby i see you in the mirror in the wardrobe
i see you fly over the backs of roofs in crumble down streets
i see you following the astral stars
i think about you as i race home
i crash on thru the surface of middletown
i fall down the tunnel and pop up elsewhere
i enter your limits unbeknownst
pinging off the corners of the screen
i go outside and yawn
my face hits the grass repeatedly
crimson n clover over n over
the sky food arrives
someone shouts out loud
in agony or triumph ...its all the same from here
cars blur by
comedians at the wheel
rush by the factories and showrooms
my life like a film i dont understand
slump down in my chaise longue
i strap up the rest of the month
monday night looked cute in its cheap undies
tuesday night was dressed in clouds
wednesday smeared in ash
thursday naked like a jay walker
friday in chain mail
saturday skinned in silvery innards
sunday cant be seen ....it hasnt arrived yet...
the cockroaches continue to scuttle about
i liberate a few from this existence
australia, eh
yeah
thats right

lets finish the day we never started

summer wakes up like a hungover bitch in yer sleeping bag
the guys stand around arguing in the courtyard
the sun flays em alive
their voices ricochet round n round the concrete
syringes condoms and cigarette packets
beer bottles full of piss
the blocked drains
the buckling highway
the omnipresent weeds
everything has its price
somebodys gotta pay ...will it be you...?
the fucking ants have had a population explosion
the males fly off into the gathering gloom
the pollution coats their wings in a smoggy film
a film about the heat n about the weeds n about the afternoon
some petty scandal
some lousy racket
some slut gives some creep a handjob out the back
the cops wait outside the bank
but the real criminals are inside of course
the kids text text text
i spit out phlegm
a car screeches away
the scab peels off
the taxis cruise up
where ya goin'.... ?....
nowhere....
i buy a limp damp sandwich
the lettuce is brown
the flowers start to die
their vase is filthy
the blue arsed flies zing about
the spider serves em up
my nails crack
the wood is full of anteaters
the albino axolotl belches out a worm
the machine has malfunctioned
the water is not potable
so we drink warm flat coke
so we smoke bee greyed dope
so we complain bitterly
so we drift amongst the lanes
so we call up the operator and postpone tomorrow
the yellow fingered waiter
the gnarled driver under the light
the unsealed section
the flats backing onto the park
the community hall with the art class nudes
the scouts smoking cigs in the dark
the billy-o
the get out
the get go
whose trying to gee me up now?
the arachnid fanged tangle webbed finger underlings
gasbag glass faced treated guitar floss gloss hash hiss bliss
we bang on
we hammer on
even as i hate it all
even as my feet burn in my shoes
and my night locks up hard
so what has changed
nothing
n
virtually everything
has

after that moment

you wake up one morning
and theres been a cool change
while you slept over night
while you entered darkness alone
and emerged into this bright clean morning
which turns into a slightly rainy evening
and you hang outside near the weeds and the litter
sitting on a wall in the early summer night
as time undoes it all
rushing to the end of your story
so unbelievably fast
no hang on you say
im enjoying this bit
but everything falls away from you
the futures slide back
one after another
you whirl around the cosmos
the stars burn n die
the rivers flood and dry
you rise n fall
you rise n fall
the concrete is cracked
suddenly everything is art if we but could record it
i sit on the wall with my computer
i type type type
im in australia
im at rehearsals
i sit outside in the car park
on the wall by the weeds n litter
cigarette buts n dried curled up leaves
ants n cockies prowl the perimetres
blokes with funny haircuts turn up to ...err ...rock
people load the drum kits in
i do an interview whilst hiring a car
i plant my foot
i shoot off my mouth
i pat myself on the back
hang a left
chuck a right
straight on through
peter koppes in the passenger street
through the cooled off suburbs on out west
we get here
we rehearse
we have a break
summer breezes lusciously cool tonight
hotted up cars roar down lost highways out there
guys stand around talking about guitar playing
the concrete is kinda mottled
everything is art
gonna get back into it
rehearsals
sk

oceanview

climbing the steps again
round n round art deco style
my shorts pockets full of change
my faded t shirt with the pocket
my feet are tanned n dirty
the night gets hotter n hotter
my face is stinging from the sweat
the sky goes gray and the mauve
cream clouds finger the darker streaks of oncoming evening
no breeze out there
people sit outside waiting for a breeze
but no breeze has yet come
put the key in the door
slip across the threshold like a hot shadow
i lock the door
move through the flat and music comes on
i may not always love you sings a voice
go on the balcony
the sea has turned viscous black
the foam glows white by the shore
boats on the horizon sailing somewhere else
see their coloured lights play on the water
people above are having a nargument
leave me alone ! someone yells
the cicadas have started up in this street
on a stifling hot night they scream in their trees
as if it wasnt bad enough
a dog yelps pitifully over the back
some hopeless band is rehearsing in a room in the heat fog
or whatever this is
summer indeed and in action
my skin revolts against the salt water and the sky
i always feel sore these days
lucky i live alone
lucky i am a woman
and i'm young and ive got so much money
i lift up the mosquito net and roll onto my bed
i take my clothes off n lie quiet in the heat
tv sets drift in n out of hearing
music mingles back on itself
the computer portal swirls in a dna fractal series of blobs
i hear the mosquitoes above all else as they hover outside the net
their collective hum is deafening
planes boom way up there in the atmosphere
maybe theres some breath up there
because everything has gone very still
i realize with a certain satisfied horror that
i am the only one
there are no others in this game
there never was and there never will be
its a charade
its a farce
i lie in the heat and dark and i laugh
its all a great big set up baby she laughed out loud
its all a plot
how would i know if i was mad or this is real...?
there is no one to ask but lowboy
but of course
he'd be in on it too
and one day
in the middle of it all
someone will say stop
and the lights will all come on
the actors will take off their costumes
everyone smiles and says boy we really had you going there
didnt we...?
and of course
i'll just be standing there wont i.....as usual...
the mosquitoes keep whining
the awful jazz band rehearses pointlessly
there are dripping taps with more swing than that
it gets later and later
and it gets still hotter and hotter
you could imagine the world ending right here n now tonight
here we are in this heat and darkness i thought
lucky no one else is here to touch my sore sensitive skin
i burn on in the darkness nevertheless
i wriggle against the sheets in some restless loop
the lights of oceania twinkle twinkle on yonder hill
i fall asleep in the darkness eventually
my soul has trouble flying thru the swampy air
it wings its way upward
but it condenses back into me
it congeals within my hot human body
my soul coalesces into my veins and my nerves
i lay dreamless
motionless in the thick night
and somewhere
somewhere else all together
i fall and fall and fall

becalm

long line of traffic stretches to the beach
on the tiny tinny radio : i live for the sun
surf boards blond hair sun shine
the hamburger joints
the fishnchip places
the seaside bungalows
fans revolving on bedroom ceilings
in the mirror the sunburn comes on
palm trees pine trees
cicadas start up
the sandy soil throws up a thousand flowers
cars are parked on the nature strip outside the party
the windows to the apt are open
the breeze animates the wispy curtains
the market opens up in late afternoon in the square
people walk along smoking cigarettes
people buy milkshakes and thickshakes
people play euchre in motel rooms on the outskirts
my friend kim has a briefcase with 250,000 in it
we take in all eras simultaneously
grant mclennan sips his long island iced tea in the bar
frank sinatra in the tiki bar organizing some broads
p j proby splits his pants and his heart breaks apart
summer comes on stronger and faster than you wanted
the sun finally goes down on surfside six six six
you lived in a beach shack with an air hostess who was flighty
you painted the bathroom black
there were clouds in the sky as new years eve sulked in the wings
man we really took some wild drugs but who can remember...?
we took a ride in a open top mg to get some more, remember...?
you said gimme the money and wait here
you said you cant come in wait here
outside on the street
the back of my neck feeling hot n gritty
luxuriating in the exhausted fans
i hid amongst the thirsty ferns n elephant ears
after hours you reappear almost collapsing
saying
he didnt have anything
i feel the line tighten suddenly
i had seen all this before
somewhere the future hauls me in hooked
finally we show up at a beach party
i go to get a blanket n get lost in the murmuring dunes
under a coal black sky i hear the laughter from the whales out at sea
i hear the singing fish
i see the flying eels shadowed against the incoherent moon
australian summer is absolute
the night is blacker
blacker than any northern hemisphere blackness
the water is cold
the sand is rough
seabirds lie dead in grotesque positions looking like pterodactyls
the star of bethlehem has arisen in the christmas sky
the sun seekers crack open a cold beer
the summer swallows englishmen n germans whole
the sprinklers come on
my one thousand dads with their one thousand names
watering their plants eternally
just like richard ploog in surfers paradise
where its eternally 1981
and hes trying on a paisley shirt
from a mountain of paisley shirts he just bought
and in the background the ever present pet sounds
summers eternal soundtrack if you can ever get back there to 1981
you probably cant
i tried a few times
but its pretty hard
even before that in the seventies australian summers burn out n fade
age wearies youth into the ground
fibro shacks make way for weekenders make way for apts with a/c n pool
the chicks get pregnant n go to work in woolworths
the guys get tattoos and restraining orders against them
the guy in the bottleshops seen it all
no id no booze he says n winks at me
i slip under some pools surface where its bluer than blue
i climb out my eyes stinging from chlorine
my mums on her banana chair next to the pool
her white english flesh with the sudden suntanned limbs
i'm back in my old bedroom again
i choose every positive aspect of myself and chuck it all together
dad films me playing my bass guitar to no one
i borrow the car keys n jet off into the summer night
we hit a thousand new years eve parties
effortlessly breaking through n back out into the summer night intact
i drink rum n cola from a tin
i bought 2 tins to last me all new years eve
the drink tastes vaguely like xmas pudding
theres a queue at the toilet
so the boys piss under the trees in the darkness
they stand their having philosophical conversations as they piss
or advice to each other on various girls at the party
or discuss the latest record by the who
and the sky goes all orange n grey for a little while
and everything gets still
and its.....

ice scream and jealous

billy wand lay in the tangled tower dazed like a lizard
scarlet k his girlfriend had gotten up n gone home
what the fuck...what day was this....
a loud banging at the door
bang bang bang
billy gets up n stumbles about
its his fucking 27th birthday
he looks in the mirror
youll be a funny little geezer when youre fifty
says the voice of james fox
bang bang bang on the door
billy pulls on his board shorts and a t
the t is a hologram t of moses accepting the decalogue
liten up for fucksakes said his mom or his mum
when she saw it
depending on his mood
billy was half english half american half australian
just like scarlet k
neither of em knew which accent they were s'posed to talk in
tomato tomarto whatever the hell bath barth
hot flash hot flush
speed humps or bumps
fringe or bang
ass or arse
bums or tramps
billy wand spoke a true transatlantic/pacific hybrid
he and scarlet k were at the forefront of the neo-linguists
signalling a revolt into style
the banging at the door
he cleans his teeth
he answers the door
some old guy
some tanned weathered old guy with a white beard
steve......?
billy....
its scarlet ks father
he doesnt like billy wand seeing his daughter that much
after he n billy had argued over an intellectual copyright dispute
scarlet k had asked her dad...some ancient singer....
to look into this contract
and this guy said some rude things about billys work
tripe the old guy had dismissed it as
billy hadda google tripe to find out what it meant
the stomach of a cow or (archaic) nonsense
after that billy wand didnt dig him so much
anyway her father walks in like he owns the place
and billy wand is kinda angry with that
i wish we could be friends billy...
me too ...said billy unconvincingly
but you cannot franchise free inloads of scarlets music ....
its my music too..billy began
but the old guy cut him off
will you listen billy will you listen....?
he then went into a long boring monologue about himself
and the 20th century (billys least favourite era)
and billy wands temper began to fray
what fucking year is this ? he angrily asked the father
the year i put you outta business ...he answered
billy didnt wanna fight and he didnt want to fight his girlfriends father
the guy was like seventy not out
billy had a hangover tho
the heat
the hangover
the old guy in his face
they started to push each other around
you think im fucken afraid of you....?
you should back off right now before i do you.. good....
i dont care who you are i'll fucking have ya!
suddenly theyre struggling
the old guys in reasonable shape
but hes old n feeble n billy overpowers him easily
and lets him slide down a wall as if hes hurt
but when billy squats down to look at him
the old guy head butts him right on the bridge of the nose
billys flat mate lowboy wakes up
lowboy plays i-bass in their virtual group
ice scream and jealous
lowboy introduced scarlet k and billy wand
lowboy was a big fan of scarlet ks father
his parents had indoctrinated him from an early age
he was billys best mate
he was confused to see these major forces in his life
to see them in such direct conflict
hey stop that he said brandishing a gun
billy was going berserk after the headbutt
the old guy was folded up on his side moaning
lowboy fired a shot into the air
the cops broke down the door
the terrorists attacked
the prophecy came true
the asteroid collided
the chasm yawned
the sea boiled
the earth erupted
the sun shuddered
the islands sank
existence was blotted out in that moment
and in heaven
a new lord sat in judgement of the dead
at his right hand stood an angel to lead you on high
or at his left
a solemn demon to take you below

837

wasp honey
butterfly silk
spear man
the mechanicals
a boat the boat
afternoon wears on
day wears out its welcome
evening swoops in
in wind and discordant birdsong
drink energy from suns
green lime rhythm against watermark
shoot out line
shoot out another line
king hit
king tide
king high flush
a bag ever replenished
the mirror decides to speak
at last at last
a message dictated furiously from another place
our loved ones grieve for us
decelerate around the islands
i appear in 4 places
the luggage goes round n round unclaimed
net income
silver glints in a deep place
on the shore the natives blinded by the future
the machinist scratches his head
the doctor wags her finger
the surgeon washes his hands
blood pumps red hot n spicy
this is life
this is death
this is inbetween
all is one
one plus one is another one besides
on the otherside in the othertime
universe of chance
a random pattern emerges from gods tiniest whim
each miraculous day i pray to stay in
4 hours of snowblind mindlessness
the night is very soft
the planets are soft and white
the stars are faint n blurry
the wind moves through the palms and finger fronds
the bats superimposed velvet black
sydney reclines on its ample arse at the end of her day
at the marina at the course
at the depot
at the wherehouse
at the behest of the law
people getting fucked up fucked over fucked off
people doing deals
the ferries cruise in
the bridge of size
the opera house where tori was last night
the state where seal was last night
the settee where lowboy was last night
lowboy with his jail tattoos and nail polish
all his junk jewellry
all his vinyl collections
pawn shops and bowling alleys
laneways and loop de loop
ears sizzle
the pizza man delivers n delivers n delivers
up at a bondi junction brothel the cockroaches multiply
in the fated darkness of redone bathrooms with spas
and the second hand car dealers sad song that he sings
sure you say
all this n more
all this we know
tell us more
but i cannot
i have other tasks to attend
i must fiddle and fool and finesse and freakout
and all the rest
there is no rest

....where was i?

i was in canberra
or was it south america
i was young so much younger than today
darkness...returning.....
my father sits at the piano
bolan sits in a field
kathy sits at a bar talking to frank clarke
david neil sits in the window of a record shop in kingston
ford aurora just used my song reptile to advertise their amphibi-car
nestles just used my song terra nova cain to advertise their future bar
i am not selected as a school prefect due to past misconduct
(being naughty the whole time)
the shopkeeper presses drugs into my hands
a downtown hag sells me a big old bag
ricky is there too though he wouldnt have been born yet
hes rehearsing some players in an i-studio in london
my fathers jamming away and laughing
i take a swig of absinthe
i set a flame the honey wine
some white american chick gets her breasts out in slow motion
a missile comes hurtling towards the stage
i see it with my eagle eye
someone tries to explain something to me
but it just makes me angry
on the screen in the hotel keith richards is coughing
i drive around red hill lost looking for my school reunion
all my friends are professors now
they drink expensive red wine n live in red hill
i drive up in my ford aurora
yeah i got one free but its a test model
and in canberra after baby grandes rehearsal
my window is all frosted up
and in bangkok where the metal is cooking
and in new york some big copper handcuffs me
and in london some bouncer swears at my mum
and i lie low in my bedroom avoiding homework
and peter koppes is staying with us
while the family have all gone to uk
and at night we record things on his stereo cassette player
with a pair of little black mikes
he puts his guitar through a phaser pedal
wow
summers just around the corner
the girls are buzzing round my ears at the olympic pool
its a bit mixed up i admit
my my
up in sydney the nights are warm
in bondi flats we sit around plotting
in germany we stop at a cafe and i buy chocolate n some chips
in germany they have naughty videos playing in the room for 10 marks
hey can you lend us 10 marks, banga?
in germany the muesli has real hazelnuts
but in canberra
its either corn flakes or rice bubbles
mum buys one of those variety packs
like 10 little boxes of cereal
lets see the fruit loops will go first
then the oks
then the coco pops just like a chocolate milkshake only cruncheee!
then last will be the sugar frosties which no one likes
in london there is no breakfast
we dont get outta bed until in the afternoon
in america we get up early to catch our flight
in school the dark clouds have rolled in
the bullies hound me n the girls aint found me
i listen to hawkwind man
i read the hawkwind log
i go to a great party one night
i smoke galaxy cigarettes they are short n cheap
pages fly off the calendars
the screens flip n multiply
i saw your brother during lunch
we play cards it was raining hard
i surf the waves and the nets
i get caught up forging musical notes
i lose money up a vacuum cleaner
at christmas time
i deliver for
gold, frankenstine and murphy
my song asks me for permission to go on a date
hows this date ....1215...?
thats when magna carta signed the barons n the knights
and like bad king john went to one in the norman charts
and king dick the lyin'heart was at the cru-de sade
and lo it was blurred
and the national anthhyme was played
and in sydney the weeds cluster round lowboys door
and in sydney where theres two brawls for every boy
and someone gets smacked in the head honey
and i pour out them damn sugar frosties even tho their so stale
and i park by the molonglo river for a while
i lot of people i knew
will be dead by now i guess
it doesnt seem fair...most of them were kind .....
my wisdom teeth never come thru
i got a blister from playing bass seven nights a week
i got a rash creeping up my thigh
i got delusions of grandeur and visions of sugarplums
christmas round the corners
christmas in the air
am i a year too early
or
a year too late...?

adriatic boogaloo ******by TTB

ttb knocked this up in a spare nano-sec
written performed n filmed ttb studio 2026
*
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c.rush

forever lasts for nothing

this video is dedicated to j w h and the hu dosties

xxx

sk

ah that kilbeys a few songs short of an album....

doing interviews today n yessaday
people say
hey sk
howcome you lasted so long
i say
luck
luck
luck
luck luck luck luck luck
its all luck
the role of the dice
the fall of the cards
the stars line up
the little balls come down the tubes (mr humphreys)
how did you write utmw?
luck
how do you look so young?
luck
how did you meet marty n peter n tim
luck n luck n luck
what the fuck is luck?
we talk about fuckin' luck like its solid
as if luck really exists...well, does it...?
i been on winning n losing streaks
i lost cards against guys on winning streaks
you cant stop em
if you had 4 kings
they had 4 aces
if you had a royal flush
they had a royal flush in spades
and confidence....
what part does that play in luck.....?
i got hit by a car
oh thats bad luck
but i survived
well thats good luck
but my arm was busted in 3 places
oh thats bad luck
but i got it fixed for free in a swedish hospital
oh thats good luck
now its a bit shorter than my other arm
oh thats bad luck
but i can still play bass
oh thats good luck
and luck just seems to be playing a game with me the whole time
i have narrowly avoided losing my life more than once
luck was on my side i guess
something 'll get me eventually
of course
when my luck runs out
when i push my luck too far
i never been that lucky at winning things in lotteries or anything
never won a horse race
rabbits feet are disgusting things...how can that be lucky?
black cats
walking under ladders
pinches of salt
pillars of salt
orpheus dont look back
lot, dont look back
dylan, dont look back
christ dont look down
laksmi give me luck
let me be the fortunate one
but winners never learn
only losers learn
when i won i never learned one thing
only winning
but losing is a better teacher for ya
coz thats when you find out
when your lucks dribbles away to nothing
go on you cant take a trick
the shop is closed
the line is busy
the phones switched off
the time has expired
the limit has been reached
the sand runs out
time
luck
time
luck
which one will you run out of first
no good having all the luck in the world
if you got no time
what good is time without luck...?
youd just wish it away
we're lucky to get born at all...or are we?
i'm lucky to have a career in music, arent i?
sheer luck...i could have been a professor in ancient greek
i could have been a public servant getting ready to retire
i could have been a postman...i would have been good at that at least
i'm lucky my fans love me...you do love me dont you?
i went kinda bad during the nineties
i hit a ten year streak of bad luck
but i'm back n i'm old but i'm on
well nearly always
i'm a self obsessed olde bastard arent i?
lucky for some of you who like hearing me rave on
unlucky for the envious ninnies
and the disgruntled surplus carpers
who trawl thru my voluminous output
getting angrier n angrier for petty little reasons
i polarize em
love me or hate me...its all the same
vishnu has enlightened men who have hated him
because the intensity of hatred is more important to god
than the nothingness of apathy
so you who hate me so fervently
writing silly absurd threatening spiels no one will ever read
(not even me...i just deletey deletey)
so am i lucky having all these people being so interested in me
yes n no
i dunno
everything becomes clearer and simultaneously more obscure
my luck seems to have increased a little for a moment
oh but time
time running away n out
55
self obsessed
i am
i am i am
who wouldnt be if they had this self
half good half bad
good luck n bad luck mingling freely
i mean
i made some of this luck myself
i made my sausage fingers do walking basslines
but they didnt wanna
i sat down for weeks n months n years
writing n writing n writing
i was obsessed with music
i was obsessed with myself
i merged my 2 obsessions
if one is self obsessed is that a crime?
can one help it?
maybe the second world war mighta blown a bit of that away
i know a few self obsessed people
and i know a few who are but pretend not to be
and i know some who are nicely self obsessed
and some who are nastily self obsessed
in truth i am probably no more self obsessed than the next ninny
except i have my little platforms
to bleat my tedious self obsessive twaddle from
except some punters find amusement in my trip
some find empathy
some find symmetry
some like my tunes
some like my voice
some like my humanity..ie..i win n i lose in equal parts
some like my band
some like my luck
pretty lucky because i wasnt a very good singer when i started
i wasnt...its true
im not too bad these days
but when i started it was pretty iffy
i'm lucky i could pull it off
and its lucky that i was lucky
but not lucky enough to have a lovely pure sweet voice tho
like joe blow or blah mc blah does
fuck i dunno
some of my detractors try to paint my fans as fools
but theyre all bloody architects n teachers n dentists n marine biologists
where else are you gonna get the kinda lyrics i write
these guys n gals dont wanna hear about just any old thing
lucky for me
when you come home
n you had a long day
prosecuting villians
drawing up constitutions for small countries
engineering canals
engineering root canals
delivering verdicts or babies
studying fucking fish or whatever the hell it is
you turn to...
cmon
thats right
because my songs take you in
they dont treat you like a fool
my songs are landscapes that you enter
and you try to move through the houses and streets
thru the fields n forests n eras of my songs
you pick up hints
you pick up clues
you unlocking these doors
you realise
these arent kilbeys doors
these are my doors
now im unlocking my own doors
because youre smart right
you need some stimulus with your rock
who ever fucking said rock should be dumbed down?
well guess what then
im dedicated to taking it to the nth degree
im gonna rock like a fool
n spit out my take on life
with its big words n its hazy lazy cryptic mirrors
with its bullshit
everything has its bullshit
but at least mine is exotic bullshit
it aint no blah blah blah
im the rocking professor
im the doctor of rock
im the senior dean baby
thirty years not out
i must be doing something right right?
comments

excerpt from file under travel

under the radar

look homeward angel

i whipped this up on the way home from perth
hope you like it
coming soon roddy radar interview

sk

looking just like perth

ricky is in w.a. for a while
hanging out n producing a record
he bumps into richard lane
keyboard player with the stems and sometime promoter
tho promoter is a silly term to apply to richard n fambley
who are total hippies
they drive around in a truck with a portable little cabin on the back
kind n nice and helpful n dreamy people
anyway richard books me 3 gigs in wa
ricky picks a band n rehearses em
n blow me down with a feather
they are tight
they are "on the money" as we showbiz types say
they already know all the songs by the time i get there
they made hardly any mistakes
shaun hoffman on drums is like a controlled explosion
or hes as exact as a drum machine
his hi hat work is great
he locks it down n he doesnt wander
no extra malarkey
hes like a full back in a team
and he doesnt let the timing slip
his son adrian 18 is playing bass for the 1st time
normally that would probably disqualify him for being in my band right there
but i saw adrian sing a song with the triffids
and hes got a lotta soul
his bass playing was
exact tight and almost error free
he was not nervous at all
a very matter of fact guy
someone should study the hoffmans
cos their kids are gifted and kind hearted
thats right
gifted AND kind hearted
i kept waiting to see this kids darkside
cos boy he was pretty good on the old bass
i heard him play guitar
he can sing in tune EVERY time
and i heard him tinker on the piano n it was
pretty good too
now the hoffmen were verily team players
and they did their jobs well
ricky of course was doing exactly the right thing
so we immediately had a good band going
and we acquitted ourselves well
considering we had 1 rehearsal
anyway
freo was a good gig for me
i enjoyed myself thoroughly at the fly by night club
a great venue indeed
easy going
fremantle is very easy going
not really in any rush or anything
anyway
i rarely say nothing went wrong
but nothing went wrong
i now have ricky n the hoffmen as my band when im solo
(when in season)
we got good houses in perth n freo
every single person i met was laid back n nice
no one laid any unpleasantness upon me
and i in my turn was fairly cordial
the freo crowd are really the coolest bunch
no pretenses no bullshit
the kids are all playing music
the airs fresh
the seas blue
the houses are quaint n great
i had me a real good time
ricky did a huge job as MD
the hoffmen were a dream rhythm section
richard was not yer run of the mill promoter
and the audiences were very very nice
maybe the west is the best after all..
how strange....

no free mantle, mister.....

bussellton, wa

i am in west australia doing my solo tour
ricky maymi on guitar
shaun hoffman on drums
adrian hoffman on bass
im playing my guild 12
we are playing tonite after rehearsing yesterday
we sound really good too
please come along and cheque us out
the weather is warm n sultry
had a delicious vietnamese last night with ricky
the song tam in fremantle
had a sweet potato n pumpkin roll for lunch
we are staying on the top floor of a freo guesthouse
its really nice
very quiet
perth is 3 hours behind sydney
i got a minor case of jet lag
the flowers next door are magnificent blue pink and red
richard lane the promoter of tour is in the stems
we are playing a couple of david neil numbers
my strings are quite old
we did an interview at 8 am proving rockers can get up early
there are posters on the wall in here
of every old aussie rocker in the book
i fell asleep for a while on the way here
i looked out and imagined triffids songs being enacted out there
a woman at a mall bumped into me accidentally n said sorry
i charged my coffee to my new debit card
i hope i remember the words to all the songs
ricky did a great job teaching the band my songs
i had an anzac cookie in bunbury which i funnily called bumbury ha ha
our van is a hyundai not a kia as i previously thought
im wearing the periodic tables t shirt
a lovely male fan in seattle gave me
i dunno what it all means
but at least im getting a nuff magnesium now
and plenty of zinc alloy
we have our soundcheque in 1 hour n thirty minutes
or 1 and a half hours, if you like
we will roadtest our material
see if it is pure 100 %rocknroll no other rubbish ingredients
because rock must be rock...its carved in stone, isnt it?
so that we may rock.....all so that we may rock
my computer battery is about half empty
im wearing black undies with white piping
ive had 2 cups of coffee n its making me wee a bit
ricky didnt bring his wah wah or his ragini
adrian is playing bass live for the first time
hes very good i must say
at 18 i was useless n you all know thats the truth
shaun uses drumsticks called hotrods
i wonder why coffee makes me wee so much?
i cant play the drums myself but i play the tambourine
which is much harder to spell than drums
thats why i wanted to originally play the cor anglais
(literal translation : a slightly distorted crumphorn)
i like instruments that are difficult to spell
like base guitar because your the base of the pyramid
and lead guitar because you play it on a lead like a dasch hund
and symbols are always more legible
ricky is sitting next to me now
a big blog huh ?he says
the bjm have black undies on their ryder
but what do the black ryder have on their undies??
the bjm have black sox on their rider too
thats to put all their speedballs in so the feds cant bust em up
does anton really work for the reserve bank?
ricky is having a snooze
i want to too but the coffee got me restless
you see im rest-less...english is easy isnt it?
i came top of my english class once
n now im the arguably best lyricist in bussellton wa
arguably
my knee aches a little
i shood do yoga soon
please come n see us
all you thousands of time being readers in bussellton wa
if only one tenth of you would come
we would have at least a pair of shoes here toniote
a little dog just ran in n sniffed my leggy
i made a sound like psssst n it fled
but its owner who runs this pub gave me a stern look
mind you i bet my legs do smell nice
especially to little white dog
or maybe a tapir would enjoy my finest calves
rickys got a little beard
he looks like dylan off the cover of infidels
type type type
people walk thru our dressing room like its a thorough fare
i hope the little doggie does not come back to snifter me
i might upset bc n give it a little kicky next time
imagine if i ran around sniffing strangers knees
its totally unthinkable in a town like bussellton
perhaps the dog was trying to sniff my legend
after all im an old aussie legend now ...
a motion was passed in the senate: TTB = LEG end
must wee wee soon but lavvy is so far away
lucky i is not type of rocker to become disgruntled n wee
in a bottle n leave it hidden in some festering place
until the whole fucken gig has to be demolished
to get rid of the galloping strpto-cocco n strepto-rococco
and the germans in my eppigloppalis
i still got my adenoids though
sometimes they crash into the earth leaving craters
ricky wakes up briefly
someone downstairs says cheque 1 2
over n over in a cartoon aussie accent
with all the hum n ring n feedback
my ears love it
please come n see us if i have tempted you
bussellton wa tonight
live in the showbiz capital punishment of south west west australia
in the south west hemisphere a long way from the north, paul
yeah well
see ya!
sk

after the heat

summer lays down 100 degree grand slam in spades
perishing my rubber
making me play a dummy hand
i stand in the orange room with jb and mk
i write 11 new songs in 2 days....because i can
(2 of em arent much good)
i sing n write n sweat n sing some more
always australia everywhere
the heat i groan to love
like on new years long ago eve sitting with my family
out on the lawn
dad in his ever present white singlet drinking his one beer
mum coming out with mince pies or whatever
the neighbours pop by as they go in and out
they smell of cigarettes n aftershave n beer always beer
i have always been surrounded by beer
the stuff scares me i never understand the appeal
but i have lived amongst its smell n customs all my life
the senseless roar n din of the australian pub
as a thousand sloshed diggers promise each other the fucken moon
pissing in each others pockets slapping each other on the back
this is as truly bullshit as the stoned giggles or the junkies whine
i sometimes stood outside of pubs with their sporting pictures
from the fifties
my dads old bosses tom phillips and charlie roberts
slaves to the booze
red faced and merry 24 hours a day
my dad is never drunk
my dad is never out of control
my dad never cries or complains
he sits on his deckchair in the front garden on new years eve
drinking his one beer
'ow ya going, mr kilbey...asks john from next door
his mum n dad n brother n sister are olive skinned black haired
but john is a pale redhead like archie in the comics
he drinks a bit
he gets married n divorced
he drives a restored old holden
he drives me to the swimming pool one day
i float around in the back seat
my dad doesnt like american or australian cars
he doesnt like european cars neither
he likes english cars like morrises and wolseleys and stuff
he only likes certain brands of petrol too
he doesnt like shell
he likes bp better than the others
he spends a lotta time polishing his car n tinkering in the engine
im just advancing the blah blah he says n gets me to rev it
now im just retarding it a bit he says
new years eve up the top of lyneham in 1968 is not a big deal
no fireworks no champagne or much of that
some of the rellies drop in and i very reluctantly kiss some of my aunts
their lipstick n mustaches scared me
their sour breath n harsh words did not make me want to kiss them
there were girls at school i wanted to kiss and actresses on tv
but i did not want to kiss some of my aunts
i played records in my room
yes i liked simon n garfucknuckle ...what of it...?
next year i'd be fifteen
i was torn between the adult life which beckoned on the horizon
and my child-life i hadda leave behind
yeah i told you bout the playboys under my bed
i had a hankering for the erotic
but nothing much would happen to me for a while
i got my hands on some classic dirty books
and my head was filled with perverse ideas from henry miller
and the story of o
and lady chatterlys lover
(now on sale at the post office...then a banned book...)
anyway australian summer was all around
always there
as i gawked at the women on the pages
as i thumbed through the early 20th century erotica
as i got ready for school
listening to the radio
listening to the bee gees and neil diamond and cat stevens
n one hit wonders (like me)
who came n went like ripples in a pool
the black clear hot summer nights of canberra
the swampy damp humidity of sydney
where everyones on permanent holiday
and the weeds push rudely through the cracks
sydney the wild bohemian to canberras "straight"
people at my school married other people from my school
n settled down near that old school
i mean wtf
didnt they wanna see more of the world than that...?
i had to go to london n stockholm n hungary n atlanta
i had to meet all those wonderful characters that burnt through my life
i had to bestride the stages in a million clubs n bars
i had to look in a million backstage mirrors
watching myself get older n older
as the music morphed outwards
n i shed my seven skins
to reveal the current me
as revealed to you here on these very pages
as i allow you to see me
in all my pseudo-honesty
still type type typing away
despite my 11 songs
despite my 2 yoga sessions n my 16 laps
the kids shine on
the moon is white like a white hole
a big horserace finds women with stupid hats at one end
n stupid shoes at the other
a bunch of horses get flogged round a track
more beer
more beer
more beer
who won?
who cares
they all get pissed n flood into bondi
i come home n my wife smiles at me
with the look of love
i'll have my own celebration
on this hot hot night

containing everything

for years n years
the notice would come in occasionally
steven j kilbey
7 baines place, lyneham
the book you asked for
AIR ACES OF THE EASTERN FRONT 1915 -1917
has come in for you to collect
yours etc
the civic library, canberra

looking for heroes in the most strange n lonely places
i trawled thru history looking for a hero to idolize
the red baron
the silver surfer
the black orpheus
the white king
my life unfolded in great jerks
suddenly i was working in the public service
my school days abandoned uselessly behind
i had learnt nothing except bullying n being bullied
no i learnt how to smoke cigarettes
i learnt how to hold that painful dizzying blast in my lungs
i taunted people n i got taunted
things got settled with fists back there at school
now im in the public service, becalmed
i live in a nice house and i drive to work
my job is to update an agricultural mailing list
at night i fuck around with my new 4 track
my girlfriend who lives with me is indifferent to the racket i make
she watches the tv....yes dear...she says as i play her my stuff
i start smoking pot at work
i go down n sit in the car n smoke a joint
i start to jog around lake burley griffin every lunchtime
i go to london for 3 months
i come home n write more n more
i have no friends at this time
no one is listening to what i do
my band has collapsed years ago in ridiculous tatters
my songs were rubbish...maybe one or 2 good ones in the lot
my band got signed to emi
we did a demo n got dropped
the demo was hopeless rubbish
after 3 months in london
canberra was unbearable
hot n empty n feeling like you were nowhere
we moved up to surf city
and bohemian life began
and gee i got some friends at last
and some enemies i guess
and i took some serious drugs
and i tripped and stuff n saw heaven n felt like hell
one day some guy discovered me
i was on telly one day n next day i was a boney fido star
i had lost a loada weight and i was pale n wore makeup
life was a gas although i was still anxious all the time
the other guys in the group didnt like me that much
there were good times n bad times
we made money n went broke
they ended up on the dole a lot
my publishing money cushioned me more
this did not go unnoticed ...why would it...
people were ready to dislike me n i didnt disappoint em
something always went wrong usually tho
nothing was ever what it was cracked up to be
the real glamour was very fucking hard to find
i wanted to get away from myself so bad
but this was bringing it all back on
everyone was focussed on me
i was the hub that made the wheel go round
but i was fickle disinterested n unable to concentrate
i could not read instructions
i could not heed advice
i could not keep my peace or hold my tongue
i wanted to be a hero but i was a villain
i was neither good nor bad
i was drifting along
trying to impress myself
but i was oppressive
i read a lot of books
i alluded to lots of things
i seemed to know but i just thought
my great gift was my cocktail shaker brain
which could see possibilities in everything it came across
unable to understand the jargon in the computer manuals
i however could see the beautiful phrases embedded therein
i could recontexualise words
i could make it seem like something was going on
until suddenly hey presto...!
....there was..!
suddenly i was a songwriter
i won the polls regularly
i said i was the best to see what would happen
i said i was the best but i was the smartest
i was the phoniest and also the most authentic in one go
i was sweet n sour
i was abrasive n greedy n naive n generous
i was sophisticated n a gawking sniggering 10 year old in one
i was so evil n so good
i was so stupid
i turned everybody against me and each other
i was oblivious
i churned out music n words magically
all the people who thought i was stupid
nevertheless to some extent they needed me
this cycle of frustration multiplied to the nth degree
when the white lady waltzed into my already stupid life
and for a little while i turned steve kilbey off in my head
oh the relief it was to get rid of that motherfucker for a while
that double dealing two faced lazy fickle spoilt cruel bastard
yes the white lady soft at first
then a harsh old mistress
she got me down on my knees
the double dealing turned into quadruple dealing
i scammed dough
i borrowed and cheated and got cheated and
credit and debt and pawn shops and liquidizing assets
and rehabs and jail cells and fights and running and hiding
and ducking and weaving
and vomiting and sweating and
cant get to sleep
and disappearing for hours
n not turning up
and turning up all turned off
wow
why am i telling you all this?
whom do i hope to exorcize?
my life is this film ive made
i show you random shots
my luck changes day by day
money comes in
money goes out
they love me
they hate me
theyre angry with me
theyre pleased with me
i come back as this old journeyman
55 not out
still with obsessive little ninnies
writing in with their oh so obvious bile
still people amazed by records i made a quarter of a century ago
i was good then
i was always good by the time the church started
thank god you didnt have to hear baby grande
but then suddenly
it shifted gear
the podgy public servant who couldnt get anyone to listen
begot the angular hero for five minutes
who begot the dopey dope fiend
who begot the ruined junkie
who begot the phoenix from the ashes
against all odds i come back slowly but surely
my inexorable quality edging me forward
my rampant ego n silliness hauling me back
but now my silliness is my eccentricity
an eccentric old genius finally a part i can play
but it aint working out
my genius status is not widely recognized...funny about that
things still go wrong
im still in here with myself
my teeth rot
my debts accumulate
i dither and i dawdle
i pop up in 2009
its futuristic alright wow in case youre reading from 1977
youll be pretty disappointed in the music of today tho
most of it is this unbelievable bad tin pan alley manufactured tripe
meaningless dribble with no heart or soul or brilliance
you want the obvious you got the obvious
humanity is mad
we kill our heros
we crucify our stars
we put out our suns
i am mad
everything is corrupt
everyone is confused
the right hand verily does not know what the left hand does
for choice we are given jehovah or evolution
for choice we are given left wing or right wing
for choice we are given alcohol n cigarettes
for choice we are given war and taxes
people they even killed john lennon.....didnt they?
i am in a time where you cant believe nothing
do you believe that book about joe blow you read?
a source close to steve kilbey said...
an insider said...
a report said
university research has shown
boils down to nothing when you die
is there an afterlife?
how the fuck would i know...i'm a pop singer
i'm a jazz smoker
i'm a guy who writes a blog
people flow thru my life like plankton
i dive deep into the sea of human time
55 years deep
further down
i cant believe my life
my good n bad luck
the wild coincidences
the clues hammered up in front of me i never saw
subtle equations i figured out in my heart of hearts
god appears and disappears in my life
convinced unconvinced
yes no i dont know
all of the above
i fluke it
i swing it
i lose it
a losing streak
struggling ducking n weaving
all an illusion
all maya
a sleeping man struggling in his sleep
i make n squander illusory money
money no one ever had disappears up my arm in a stream of poison
in my now empty house i discover krishna hidden in my library
who placed those books on my shelf....?
i worship krishna i shoot smack i eat gulab jamuns
i buy 3 hundred dollars worth of srimad bhagavatam
i devour the mahabharata
and my ego devours me
i look for a hero n boy krishna fits the bill
i wanna walk with my sweet lord under the wishing trees
i wanna stand in the darkening forest hearing his flute in the distance
i wanna gaze on his face the colour of a rain cloud
if god ever appears as a personality why not be krishna
a tricky beautiful funny sexy youthful hero with 16, 000 wives
incarnation of the god vishnu
the main man
the true personality of godhead
we presume if god creates personalities
he must have personalities himself
after all arent we created in his image?
and any way
what exactly am i saying
and am i s'posed to be saying anything anyway?
is that what i do....say things?
most of the things i say come true strangely enough in some perverse way
i have had over 1,250,000 reads
i am up in astronomical figures
millions upon millions hear my little easy song
i live an easy life doing yoga and writing blogs
my detractors carp on ...why are you still here...?..
you love me thats why......
why do you love me?
who knows
who cares
its all gone bad out there
did we walk on the moon?
who did the twin towers?
who starts n ends all these perpetual wars?
who stands behind all this?
what is life?
how did we get here?
how can you predict a horse race?
how can you turn a profit?
how can you get rid of smart n dumb people?
i type type type away
more brilliant than you think
more stupid than you know
against all odds the fraud was genuine..ha ha
say what you like
when your old nothing hurts anymore
i played the game n i blew it mostly
i stand around now wounding my licks
things flow on
the zeitgeist is king
fashion jump to the left
i get good reviews again
after thirty years what a tangled graph i weave
in n out
n up n down
im good im bad im good again
i labour in the wake of the beatles
i started too late to ever be a decent painter
too much i dont know
too ADD to concentrate on numbers
my brain packs it in
nope
i will not read that!
the endless stream of words will not stop
i stand n do yoga looking at the skyline
the lovely weather in mid spring here
the nepalis flowers bloom white pink n red
someday i may have a garden
i am one transaction away from fortune or ruin
i step up yoga to twice a day
i rifle through my kids halloween treats stealing their chocky
(call the vegan police!)
i paint paper black n lay on white
i fiddle with technology n get sucked in
my genius immediately susses it
my idiot wont learn to use it properly
i go round in circles
what i get up to would astonish you
it would horrify you
it would bore you
you would envy me pity me lose interest forever
i'm madder than a march hare
coldly logically clinically sane
inspired desired despised compromised wisely unwise
will the real me please shut up!
not likely, guv'nor
hes lived a thousand lives
and he still dont know nothin'.....