With Gusto

"Feel Like Shit, The Morning After" E. Smith

I have got to stop sleeping in so late on my days off. It's almost noon, and my day's only started. Got the day off on the right start at least -- a wank and a shower followed by some Elliott Smith, and gorgonzola and brie cheese will follow Elliott. I sure hope there're some eggs I can get my paws on!
Rehearsed last night with the band, got a new song on the go, re: Knife Fight. I'm going to work on the monologues today, get them more similar. Each member of the band wrote a monologue, and we're thinking of putting the band into the words. We're all going to stab this mysterious "Carl" figure. The bastard stole our gardening and power tools! How can we care for our stuff without the proper tools! It's like stealing a woman. A band's woman. The second worst kind of theft. I get to write more on the typewriter. Gonna read some poetry, some really good local poetry, it's pretty "Funky" -- bitter, sarcastic, gentle and smooth.
The girl's off to work for the day, so I'm forced to spend it alone if I want to. I might just do that. Get drunk off Hermannators in the early afternoon with a typewriter and a mound of cheeses.

November
Tom Waits

No shadow no stars
no moon no cars
November
it only believes
in a pile of dead leaves
and a moon
that's the color of bone

No prayers for November
to linger longer
stick your spoon in the wall
we'll slaughter them all

November has tied me
to an old dead tree
get word to April
to rescue me
November's cold chain

Made of wet boots and rain
and shiny black ravens
on chimney smoke lanes
November seems odd
you're my firing squad
November

With my hair slicked back
with carrion shellac
with the blood from a pheasant
and the bone from a hare
tied to the branches
of a roebuck stag
left to wave in the timber
like a buck shot flag

Go away you rainsnout
go away blow your brains out
November

Posted by matty-b at November 28, 2005 11:41 AM