And how sweet a story it is When you hear Charley Parker tell it, Either on records or at sessions, Or at offical bits in clubs,
Butte Magic of Ignorance Butte Magic Is the same as no—Butte All one light Old Rough Roads
The taste of rain —Why kneel?
April doesnt hurt here Like it does in New England The ground Vast and brown Surrounds dry towns
Man is not worried in the middle Man in the Middle Is not Worried He knows his Karma Is not buried
The wheel of the quivering meat conception Turns in the void expelling human… Pigs, turtles, frogs, insects, nit… Mice, lice, lizards, rats, roan
I keep falling in love with my mother, I dont want to hurt her —Of all people to hurt. Every time I see her
Sweet sad young tenor Horn slumped around neck Bearded full of junk Slouches waiting For Apocalypse,
But a tree has a long suffering shapeIs spread in half by 2 limbed fate Rises from gray rain
Tears is the break of my brow, The moony tempestuous Sitting downIn dark railyards When to see my mother’s face Recalling from the waking vision
Describe fires in riverbottom sand, and the cooking; the cooking of hot dogs spitted in whittled sticks over flames of woodfire
The story of man Makes me sick Inside, outside, I don’t know why Something so conditional
Society has good intentions Burea… 5 years ago – other furies other l… America’s trying to control the uncontrollab… The essential smile In the essent…
Now it’s jazz, the place is roaring, all beautiful girls in there, one mad brunette at the bar drunk with her boys. One strange chick I remember from somewhere, wearing a simple skirt w...