Montana Motel

[and the radio cowboy sings]

Come lay your body down close next to mine.

Sure, yes I’m sure, your husband won’t mind.

We’re in Montana, and he’s in Japan.

So lay your body down. Lay it close next to mine.

Just turn your lamp off, and close down the blinds.

If he came home to find us entwined,

Your husband’s a good man, he’d understand.

So lay your body down. Lay it close next to mine.

(asleep beneath the bower of  other tresses,

I do miss the slow flower of your eyes.

But I’ll water I guess the garden of her yeses

till I rest in the hollow of your thighs:

Is what we learn worth the loss of what we forget?)

Come lay your body down close next to mine.

Sure, yes I’m sure, your husband won’t mind.                                                                             

Sure, yes I’m sure, your husband won’t mind.

Sure, yes I’m sure. . . .  Sure, yes I’m sure. . .  .

(though I taste the desserts of another’s mess,

I still miss the silvered service of your limbs.

I must suppress the appetite of these whims

till again I can dine at the table of your breasts.

Who else turns his face from the light to stare at shadows?                                                         

Who abandons the concert to attend to echoes?)

Come lie here beside me, pass down the wine.

Sure I am that your husband won’t mind:

Needs in Montana can’t wait for Japan.

So lay your body down,

Lay your body down, body down. Body next to mine.  . . . .

--Duane Vorhees

Timothy Spearman presents

Here is Tim performing the shaped poem he contributed a few days ago.

01 Lighted Torch.mp3

http://www2.zippyshare.com/v/ggCTonjo/file.html

Jim Coates composes

Here is a screen shot of how FD looks in the print preview window of Band in a Box. The 1st 4 bars are the intro chords. I got a particular sound by playing the initial G6 chord at the 12th fret, and the rest are at the 7th, 5th and 3rd frets. I was just fooling around when I made the recording which is why the timing is so bad.

Charles Dickens says

Time hustled him into a little noisy and rather dirty machinery,in a by-corner, and made him Member of Parliament for Coketown: one of the respected members for ounce weights and measures, one of the representatives of the multiplication table, one of the deaf honourable gentlemen, blind honourable gentlemen, lame honourable gentlemen, dead honourable gentlemen, to every other consideration.

Atoll

Poets before me (how many) have extolled
:melons full melons ripe
:those raspberries (pink&wrinkled) delicate atop your double-dip vanilla sundae
:your slice of peach:your wedge of pie:your pyramid of hot cobbler,

 tartsweet juices oozing like fresh tar on the newlylaid I-  in August Texas. . . .

but none has ever praised
:the gold and graceful arc of the taut banana - O huntsman's bow before release --
:the strong sweeping scimitar of a Southern Cross bole, bent fullsail, 

fruitful coconuts proud unfurled, or :the sweetwhitesticky elixer inside. . . .

no one has ever
noted for eternity
the coy Thanksgiving yam.

--Duane Vorhees

Timothy Spearman writes

THE LIGHTED TORCH

           A

            SUN

               CULT

                  BASED

                                                              ON PAGAN    A

                                                           SYMBOLISM    MAN

              REPRESENTS     MUST BE

     A      ITS AGENDA       INITIATED

                                          FLAME   WITH THE ‘G’      BEFORE HE

AND LIGHTED    OF THE GRAND   CAN RECEIVE

TORCH SYMOLIZE    GEOMETRICIAN    ILLUMINATION

AND REPRESENT     WHOSE ETERNAL    FROM THE ELECT

THE KNOWLEDGE    INFLUENCE IS        WHO DESCEND FROM

THE WATCHERS   THEIR SACRED   THE WATCHERS

SHEMYAZA      PRESERVE   WHO GAVE A

& AZAZEL    AS THEY   CHOSEN

GAVE T0   CONTROL  FEW

      MAN    IT ALL    fire

                   NOW    

sAVAnnA

AblAze WiTh hUnger/disCOVery

,epiderM AnTs rUn eleCtriC AgAinsT This plAin:

ThrOUgh YOUr CUrlY grAsses These sOfT YellOw liOns

prObe                 And Under The ripe VUlTUres in The briArTrees

MY YOUng ChiMps rOMp UpOn gOlden MOUnds –

O The Wind glows WiTh dUsT        & dArK MYsTerY

And O The MOOn hOWls

             AbOVe

                    Us. And YOUr riVer sWAllOWs mY AArdVArK.

--Duane Vorhees