Distrustful Sons of Former Slaves



I have two sheeps in the back yard –
the variety (and spread!) of their shits

I also have shares in a rat – Fudgepacker
and a bunny – Moppy

two cats – Franklin & Keanu

& a dog –Monty,


two boys
& my gurl.

I like The Gurl the most

OH, fuck me; I love her very VERY MUCH!

The Gurl - sick of this every evening...

The sheeps like apples.

[Oh, I just misread this – there is an option in MSWord for “Quickpants!“]
{wouldn’t Johnny Depp & Christina Ricci have The Most Freak Offspring???
fuck it – he was at his peak in Ferris anyway…}

I have put on The Fauves to protect me –
When The Tour Went Pro
and the one about the gun
and livan in a Brotherhood bin –
not in that order

I sang the one about the gun all day yesterday –
must really learn the words…

I have been up since about four o’clock –
is that right, baby?

agape, agape; that's Latin, Tish...

I had a whole standup routine based on that fucker – oh – and Hilly Clint –
(and lightbulbs – ’twas the 80’s…)
wrote it on the plane home
then the train –
thought I’d be famous…

but the more & more movies I see {I finally saw The Matrix the other night! – shit movie}
but the more & more movies I see – worserer acting – ‘cept that gurl – fuck me – can I say she reminds me of sone? you know who… [SPOILER ALERT!] she kissed him and saved The Whirl! Wish Seth could do that… the more & more movies I see…

I dunno… can I still mock him?
when hez gwan do it hisseff?

Did anyone see that boat movie?

answer is yauwzxm!

Since you & I
had each other to rely on

bin doan it on m’own…

MY Claire - Hands off!

now, he’s tellan me
that Wendy is in love with him

and she’s gone

fuck me [shouty mark] – is that correct?

waal; NO!

* * *

We stop & sit on the curb
Seth is feelan it – THESE ARE THE *HILLS,* CLOONEY!!!
{yuazm; we gotsem hills, Perineum! Cellphone coverage next month ; fucker!}

Keanu; son of Clooney

He starts chattan ’bout his film – he has to be an English…
“Can only lead to Heaven,” I tell.
“You never fuck me ’round, Rev,” he says
& I just grab him
& squeeze his funny-shaped ‘eed.
“You are fucking funny” I say
& pull him to my chest
“Seth” – running my fingers through his stoopid lanky limp hair –
“you are a dumb bastard”

“Where’s Karen?” he asks

“Karen is pissan ’round in Torino – nothan on the books –
just pissan ’round,” I tell; probly in too loud a voice

She went over on, ostensibly, a magazine shoot
BUT with half a sniff of a series of articles for Vogue –
How Torino Got In Me – lifestyle stuff…

I can’t tell him – he wouldn’t take it correctly…

He’ll find out in six months or so
when it won’t matter so much

Seth, you fucking idiot;
you are a fucking idiot.
I fucking love you –
you fucking idiot

He loves her, Ray –
you know how that works

there was a show, she didn’t get a shot
but she went to Torino anyway

WHY? Why always these fucking thangs...?

Hey, just listen to this: First Day On The Run
NO- listen to this! Celebrate The Failure!

and ain’t this fuck you, get fucked!?

I was goan for my blue belt/
on the day that she left me

– what kinda Genius wrote that?

OH! there is a song entitled “Get Fucked!


Must catch up with these guys!
[shall report back]

* * *

Ethel Geraldine Rockefeller Dodge

was the youngest child
and only daughter
(Robert was sorta off in his own Whirl – but in a totally self-assured way –
no-one worried about him – he had it together)
of Almira Geraldine Goodsell Rockefeller
and William Avery Rockefeller, Jr.

Don't you love my dress?

She was fun
we made sandcastles with no sand
we built a cubby
we made icecream
{they made Desperately Seeking Susan ’bout her, you know}

Ally helped –
Ally was great
and Bill treated me like a grownup –
taught me how to bang a nail
let me use his drill
left me alone to wash & wax the Safari

Teh Mighty Valiant Safari!

Trust is very important, Big Bill;

Trust is very important.

Trust is very very important.

It enables one

to go higher, faster, better, stronger, more –
a shade more purpleyer

it MAKES you go higher, faster, better, stronger, more![ and purpleyer!]


and take Pride
and fucking joi! in your work –

without these,

you got nuthan…

Find Dodge Dealers in Geraldine, Montana

is that a challenge?

I wanted to get the Hanna Montana t-shirt
{that’s not her real name, you know…}
but wasn’t allowed…
mean gurl!
(oh, but fuck it – I love her too much to be angry for long…)
[will they still have them when my bday comes ’round???]

hangan out with Zappa’s kid

I need a gun – even a plastic one –
no, I want a plastic one

fallan in with the rhythm section of motley crue
twenty five American dollars
callan in on olivia newton john
she gave me a job
sellan cougars
& koala bears

bin doan it on m’own

I rarely pause during my day
to give thought to those Dodge/Rockerfeller oil barons

kiss you on the doorstep ?

where, on a gurl, would you find a doorstep?

{Is that a metaphor or something? I am A Simple Man…}

You are a fucking liar, Mr Albert I Woas Jr! Mrs Lee Franklin is WASTED upon you!

Matt fucking Dillon – Jesu he is GREAT!!!!
isnt he fucking GREAT!!!????!!!

I shoulda done a trade…

free power tools
beer at 3:30…

oh, NO! I shoulda bin an actor – Mickey Rourke, Kirk Douglas, Matt fucking Dillon!
oh, that other guy – Nick Nolte – AND Jeff Bridges (who is just Nick Nolte anyway)


I should also be a rockstar – MUST ring these guys!!!

now these guys are teachan Pavement what to do –

did Seth tell he loves The Fauves?

listen to this: (it’s the one about the gun again)

and I will never, ever lie…

Besides Matisse and Derain, other artists included Albert Marquet (never heard of him), Charles Camoin, Louis Valtat (never heard of him), the Belgian painter Henri Evenepoel, Jean Puy, Maurice de Vlaminck (never heard of him), Alfred Maurer, Henri Manguin, Raoul Dufy (love that guy – met his daughter – she rocks!), Othon Friesz (what kinda name is that?), Georges Rouault, the Dutch painter Kees van Dongen, the Swiss painter Alice Bailly (where en Suisse? How would you pronounce her name? Does she hafta change evertime she switches cantons?) and Georges Braque .

matisse - open window - need we say more?

oh – the gun song again!

(disclosure: I {we; actually – I made her m’ accomplice, ‘Tish!} just stole an ikeakaeakeanuauau – WHY do these horrid fucking frightful coincidences plague me ? – table [and a chef!]
then had to borrow one of them funny hex keys…)

I shoulda done a trade…

free power tools
beer at 3:30
AND some of them funny hex keys…

oh yea! TV star!

did Seth tell he loves The Fauves?

The Gurl - sick of this every evening...

I left my leathers inthe halllway

put the CD on

and changed her Whirl

Fuck You, Elkanah fucking Settle!


“A flash in the pan”
Common definition: Something showy that initially impresses but doesn’t bring any real results. (e.g. “The singer’s career as Elvis’s long lost brother was just a flash in the pan.”)

First use: The term has been known since the late 17th century. Elkanah Settle, arse-licker of the Earl of Nowich, in Reflections on several of Mr. Dryden’s plays, 1687, had this to say: “If Cannons were so well bred in his Metaphor as only to flash in the Pan, I dare lay an even wager that Mr. Dryden durst venture to Sea.”

Dorset Gardens - the Home of True Poesy

WAAL; FUCK YOU, SETTLE ! (if that is your real name, arselicker; you fucking coward!) –
you didn’t even write Notes and Observations on the Empress of Morocco” –
(probably that pitiful treacherous plagiarist clod Shadwell )
– you never even met her!
Maya told me you asked for an audience
but she told her secretary to tell you to fuck off –
you fucking lying shit!

May Mr Johnny Cash
dip your hand in warm water
for the rest of your few remaining days!

Jack & me
went to sea (or – as you so pretentiously spell it – “Sea”)
(in a beautiful pea-green boat; fuck you!)
two guys, out on The Waters
many a time!
BEER & FISH make a writer; fuck you!
(oh, bad luck; Hemingway…)
[fuck you – Fitz NEVER even left The Shore –
but look at the joi he brought to you miserable critics!
An Inspiration to SO many many terribly much worserer writers!]
{oh, fuck; why wasn’t he wearing the scarf..?}

Able Seaman Jack Dryden

Jack Dryden was an excellent Navigateur
and good all round on deck –
no loose ties,
nothan rattlan round ,
good with a knife,
a fine hand;
excellent company.

* * *

AND you can get fucked AGAIN, SETTLE! (if that is your real name, arselicker; you fucking arselicking coward!)
DO NOT invent stories about My King!

There was no “long lost brother”
’twas a Myth created by me, Mr Tom Waits, Br Leonard Cohen & Jenny from The Jennys
after a couple o’ tequilas & such.

There is, however, a story
about The Brother Who Lived
(which cannot be supported in fact
but endures to this day)
& is ridiculously conflated
with the History of Mr Johnny Cash

The King and Johnny Cash

but, really, can’t we just put this all behind us?

DAMMIT! – why does cactus have this effect on normally decent humans?

Jack & Alex were right – you are Dulness’ bitch!
(but I must admit that you have succeeded in infecting the entire UK (with the possible exception of Wales – ta, Dylan) with decay, imbecility, tastelessness and an inability to deal with either the spoken or written languages –oh; and, perhaps, The Entire World!)
However, I hear you ended up playing a dragon
in a hand-made green leather suit in a fucking market!

Oh, World Domination!

I thank the Brothers of the Charterhouse

for spoon-feeding you gruel
and wiping your worthless arse
until you so graciously died.

Get fucked, SETTLE, you arselicking, plagiarising coward!
The Spectre of Spartacus shall be ON YOUR ARSE immediately!
NO RESPITE in Hell either – DO NOT SLEEP!!!


May Jesu take pity ‘pon your soul.

Ray Liotta’s Special Day

Originally 3/3/9

Ray Liotta wakes early

just before the Sun

lounges in The Big Red Chair

and watches the sunbeams seep in

The air is fragrant

with rain on the road

rain on the lawn

and rain



Big Red Chair

Ray Liotta kneels

and presses his lips to the floorboards

“Hep me Jesu” he whispers

(Today is A Special Day)

Ray Liotta walks through Life

leaving a sunshine-shaped hole™

Mister Ray Liotta, having An Ordinary Day

it doesn’t matter –

He has Love

he loves her

& that’s all that matters

Jesu he loves her – she is Everything

Ray Liotta thinks back on his life – not much to date –

but now he has Love

The sun has barely broken the curtains

he pours a cognac –

“It’s Love” he toasts

& enjois the warmth flooding his chest –

“I wish every day could be today”

Today is A Special Day

Cognac for Mr Liotta

It’s Love, Ray Liotta; Real Love

she is the strongest, most vulnerable thang he has ever held

it was Love before it was even Love!

what can a simple man do?

He longs to be in her arms

in her bed

wrapped in her legs –

Cognac won’t make this go away –

it’s Love, Ray Liotta

just tell her; just say YES!

You don’t have my Gods, Ray Liotta

you must find your own –

but I DO wish you Happiness

& the cough mixture to find it –

Love you can hold in your arms –

not to imagine
not to read on a page –

go tell her, Ray;

Today is A Special Day

Ray Liotta shaves,

brushes his teeth,

thinks about a shower –

“No;” he decides, “this is Me”

Ray Liotta pours another Cognac

& retires to The Big Red Chair

“It’s Love” he affirms

& wonders what to do –

Today is meant to be A Special Day…




NO, better to stay home –

decide what to make

& let her help cook –

Is that Love?

Ray Liotta is not sure

“Fuck it” says the Cognac; I want to be with her –

It IS Love!

He closes his eyes

takes her in his arms

smells the smell of her & the rain –

you are a terribly romantic man, Ray Liotta –

if thangs could always be this way…

Today is truly A Special Day

The cognac tells him the Truth,

tells him what he wants to hear –

“you love her” – just fall in & enjoi

and he does love her –

he does

Give up, Ray Liotta,

there is only Her

You don’t have my Gods, Ray Liotta,

but I tell you, there is only Her

First light, all kinds of rain in the air, Cognac & Love;

Today is A Special Day

How long have you felt like this, Ray Liotta?

when did this all begin?

“dunno” replies the cognac

& burns the answer into his chest

He looks into the glass

& tries to remember –

how did this all begin?

“dunno” he gives up

but the Cognac tells him to THINK!

“the very first time?”


“a bit after that?”


but as soon as he told her

he was Free

Congratulations, Ray Liotta, you are Free

“It’s Love, and I am a boy again” he smiles

“and she is such a woman”

& he is Proud

How did you find her, Ray Liotta?

It doesn’t matter – what matters is NOW!

It’s Love & the smell of rain –

first light, all kinds of rain in the air, Cognac & Love;

Today is A Special Day

What you gwan do today?


It's *Love*, Ray Liotta...

Today is A Special Day.

He has her in his arms

still half clothed

on the same pillow

foreheads together

whispering in her ear

“I love you”

& it sets him on fire

he can FEEL the whiteness of her skin

& she breathes out rain…

It’s Love, Ray Liotta;

Today is A Special Day

He hears pianos when he listens to her breathe

the warmth of her skin pushing into his hand

don’t move – just lie there forever –

this is the way it was meant to be –

this is the exact perfect way to die

this is the exact perfect way to be alive

Today is A Special Day

First Light,

all kinds of rain in the air,

Cognac & Love;

Today is A Special Day