Other aspects. Conventional and not-conventional, songs and not-songs.

* * * * *
untitled

Do I dig My Own Shit
Better than an Angel’s Ralph-ing
Simply because it is My Own?
I am embarassed by it -

Pulled out/Pooted forth
Onto a screen
My split-pea recipes
Blatty-ed out into Being

(and/or Nothingness -
an Eternity’s in-between)

Sizing up daemons
Upping penny-antes
Cutting all losses with no hedged bets

Faced down Rocky Racoon over poached xmas cookies
Rushed imagos aligning next to French Toast Stix
Dues never paid in full…

Out of Dew-Drop Inns, amidst Grants of black Converse
Shared oversize jackets and badly sung blues
Boddhisattva to Wonderful Winos
(got a 5-dollah bill and an overcoat, too)

Befriending Rosanna Dannas
By gospel backbeat backstreet feedings
My Klimt-esque showers to a maze

It’s Ought-Six o’ One,
1/2 a DUZ-ning of The Other
It’s all a wash – I’m all awash
In muze (sic)’s far-flung luna light

Luna ticking, Chien a-foaming
Momentously forming by pants ablaze
A life too late (and yet so early) -

I am Arising
Hopefully Arriving
In Time/On Time
By My Time/Today



(godz eatz is the title song to a (imaginary) Japanese monster/horror flick – you know, exec-produced by Tarantino, the latest enfant terrible director, very lurid neo-Roger Corman titles…)


GODZ EATZ

EXT – Crack o’ dawn; Nippon, a beautiful ‘tea garden’ with all that suggests.
WE HEAR MUSIC: a ‘new age-y’ sounding, hazy drone, with bansuri flute coloring the sonority.
Slow aerial tracking shot through to the urban environs, EG: Tokyo.
Accelerating and ascending shot to a skyscraper. To a penthouse window; inside,
as the sun rises -

INT – WE SEE:
a 30-ish military officer a man of power, with a young girl, could be 18, could be twelve. Both appear Asian, though he has the bearing and perhaps some of the features of the European.
She is bound and gagged, white lace stockings and garters, sheer bikini panties ’round her ankles, white lacy demi-bra.
He still has his dress pinks on; now takes his belt off, now wielding it like a whip.
(She has a rather blank look on her face, considering.)

WE HEAR THE MUSIC swell – now the gongs CRASH;
and WE SEE a giant dragon arm, all green and scaly, smashing thru the window.
The lizard hand has opposable thumbs enough to grab the businessman by the tail of his jacket. He is held up by the mutant reptilian/mammalian monster, who surveys her catch bemusedly.
Officer loudly mutters the sort of Japanese we tend to hear in this sort of genre exercise.

Godz Grinz. She extends her middle finger up and impales the man, sits him right down on the giant claw-nail.
WE HEAR Japanese muttering/now screaming.
Godz emits monster fiery breath,
roasting the businessman, before making a meal of him.

WE HEAR STUPID TOMTOM FILL:

I’m Ill-LEGAL
A-MORAL
I am Un-Repentant
(Not Your Fugitive Kind)

Lock UP your Dotters
Instruct your Sons
Prepare All Your Defense
I’m Crossing That Line

Your Worlds are Crumbling
Pants Falling Down
You Will Not Escape Me
It’s FEEDING TIME

BIG STUPID TOMTOM FILL

Screen Virtually Explodes
LURID. BLOOD-SPATTERED. CHAOS REIGNS.
BEGIN TITLES

[INSTRUMENTAL CODA.]

REMEMBER: ©2006 jcivil, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
We’re watching you.

sounds something like this:



KOFY TV 20

A musical partner-in-crime from halcyon daze
and I
had this riff

:One of Those Movies That Fucked Up Our Parents:

we loved those flix while smoking weed
in the wee small hours of the morning
on Channel 20 KOFY

Jim Gabbert
a rich fag (a real go-getter)
owned the station
partied all night long
and ran those movies; sniffing coke
swigging booze
cutting back and forth

those films/
his film
those films/
his film

those days are long gone -
Jimmy Boy sold out, went on a permanent cruise
or some sound like that

It’s either a mexican channel
or religion all the time now
2500 Marin st., San Fran;

A nice tag
Jimmy could afford it
our highest-priced tag
We charged him what the traffic would bear -
good client.

We had habits to support too
Innocent daze of our youth
at the edge of the known world
on the fringe of our comprehension
before the whole thing came crumbling down…



oigent STUFF

ah got mah MOJO HAIN
you got yo PROMISE LAIN
they got no IDEE’, MAIN
whut dis hea’ thang’s about

you got to CALL ‘EM OUT
we got to SCREAM AN’ SHOUT
don’t want to LOSE THE BOUT
cause they’s jes too much at hain

we got some righteous DUDES
you got too much to LOSE
I got to spread the NEWS
befo’ it all goes away

dis is some oigent STUFF
de times, dey gittin’ TUFF
y’all jes be divin’ MUFF
while I be speakin’, sayin’:

[doot doot doo-widl SHAMP. dwa-aw]

Why CAINTchoo jes’ be true
Lawd knows yoo CAINT affo’d dem shoes
Why does she GOT to sang dem blues
All night long, All night long, All NIGHT long

[wip dip dip shiddl WOMP. sheww..]

Why WONT you be my gaal
Ain’ not jus’ BE my dear ol pal
Ain’ sho as SO you reap you shall,
You shall SO, SO, SOW – WE-LL…

[gittar solo]



(SIC)

rainy season coming

hey

*it’s like that*

(sic)

you once axed me
if I thought mebbe -

melody

was *so over*
in favor of tha beat

- ‘ve heard some radio,
‘here ‘n there’
(70 billion served -
the pedestrian beat
you don’t dance to that beat)

rock -

*HELP, I’m a rock*
(help I’m IRAQ) -

styx mainly to chord tones
and the dominant seventh
(which I am down with,
long as she can sit still)

R&B

yes it does exist
in a mutatus mutandis

form

(following funck-tion -
Bauhaus-style
Bow-wow house,
stylin’)

*has* melody -
[the modal two (or
three)-chord
vamp]

- according to the talent
(or not)
of the singer, singing;

*like a gospel number*

melisma
in spades

call a spad-a-spade
a port, a potty
a roto, a rooter
a moto, yer scooter

*add water, makes its own sauce*
spice, according to taste

de muse (sic) is not dead
she jes needs a shower



00

It must be inexorable, this groove -
or well-nigh -
Before she’ll sit down on it
A chair of the first order
(to balance ass-gravity)
A polar magnetic
(to counter-act levity)
Before she’ll let it pull her in
To a center
On the One
Zeroed In.

The equal-but-apposite attraction -
if full-on -
Appears rare as spun silk
Hard-as-diamonds to cut
(thru opaqueness-in-noise, hanging)
The true lingua franca
(by way of speaking, softly)
Might now suffice to lull her
In too deep
Into vortex
Zeroed Out.

Erased, Negated
Circular, Vacuous
Vessel In Sacra
Naked,
Holy

Pulling, Pulsating
Viscous, Electric
Word-In-Semina
Compleat,
Perfected.

La Petit Morte
case of a little death
going a long way

Empty/full
Blinding in its brilliance
In hot black compulsion
Action-painted
Jet-injected
Inter-coursing thru channels

Subsuming, consummate
She’s all-in
Sublime, in-all
& All-Out

OM



01

Her Angelic Voice (Vox Humana)
Melismatically washes my eyes
A torrent to match the sky’s output;

A seasonal outpouring, as if to counter
Commercial, Sentimental, Strictly
The particular, especial function

Of a zone, and in accordance
With the accumulative effect
The accumulating affect

Supreme product of:
Superlatively produced for:
Hunted, gathered, bundled, packaged

En masse-ive inspiration, in that
New World Aspiration, bought from
Old School Derivation

An Enlightened Age’s Evil Twin
Sibling giants, Towering, Destined
For a fall, for it’s a harder rain will come -

Our sky, split apart at the seams
Our collective heart, breaking as one
(into Two, into Dieux, in to Deus)

Two: passing, spinning, dancing
Inextricable, inexplicable

Entwined, in embrace, In Aeterna, in tandem
Joining, spiralling, pulling, pushing
at outer limits, *Sins Fronteras*

Pointing to Infinity, where
There meets here, when
Matter finds its long-lost mate, we’ll

Begin again, Finnegan
(& we all lost our chin, agin)
& Sleepers will Awake, in:

Your Honor; by your Offer; through
Your Heard Plea now answered
when the Dreamed meet the Dreamer

In an instant,
in a heartbeat,
in a starburst

Exploding/clarifying/momentous
Illuminating
Explicating All

Finally
In Sum
Totally

AUM



Walk Don’t March

Divinity student
Studies the Devine
Miracles could happen
Your water into wine

Never mind this hustle
Wasn’t working out for me
Bring your own muse beside you
Let the sound set you free

Moving toward my Mecca
My tin soldiers into dawn
With no banner to announce me
or semaphorics to alarm

This act’s gone under covers
Like a top-40 band
We might take the odd request now
if our time do be at hand

“Can you count, or are you deaf?”
Said a thief as if a joke
I been thru there & done that
Now it’s time to break that yoke



hey whaddyou do with my bongos, Dobe?
* * *
[©2006-7 jcivil, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.]