Tag Archives: music

That Late Night Brain Stomp – –

Around and around and around
Old music and idiot conversation
Like a heartbeat out of rhythm
Forms a buzzing, blurry halo
Rising smoke of nothing
Rays and waves that bounce
From sharp corners and dark walls
And back again ready to be relaunched
Peristaltic contraction of noise – –

Heavy breath of jittery loneliness
Smoke in your eyes, smoke in mine
And a warm electricity
From the higher belly
In a sharp arc up the back
Spreads from the shoulders
Tendrils, wings or bloodstains
Jerked up the neck in a sharp breath
And wreathing the base of
The skull to radiate
In rings from a place
Between the eyes – –

I am sunk deep in an amber
Haze that soon will ramp
Up to an electric blue
And lose its radiation
As the evening trudges forward
And slips backward
Like escaping oxygen
Into the closing creeping
Mindlessness of sleep – –

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Like the Twelve-Bar Blues

I want you to play me like the twelve-bar blues.
Pick up a guitar and just start sliding around,
Tell me something sad, tell it twice,
But don’t give the whole thing away just yet,
Because ABABCD is a tricky little waltz
And let’s not miss the third step.

Now riff me back to the beginning,
Hit a chord that tells me the story’s not finished
And we’ve got a ways to go.
Wind me up like a major league pitcher;
Stack me up like one of those wooden string toys
So you can push the little button under my feet and let it all
Collapse.
It’s a dangerous little dance
And let’s not forget where we started.

Spelling out a story in threes:
it’s not the fastest way to go about it but
Yes, No and No, Yes are no story at all:
Yes, Yes, No is the way a tragedy goes, and
No, No, Yes is where my little victories usually come from.
Roll up the frets and we’re back to step one
Feels like starting over but we’re a little further in the tale
And things are starting to come into focus,
What happened to you? What happened to you? Now I know.
It’s a silly little jig,
But let’s not forget why we began it.

I want to tell you a funny story, you might know how it goes
I want to tell you a real funny story, you just might know how it goes
See, I get so sick of you, and then I want to hold you close

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Marack Friesach

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