Nobody's creekbed

songs, prayers, poetry, stories, art, photographs, moving pictures, fondnesses, tall-tales and meditations

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The Anterior Insula and Hwy W

Friday, August 25, 2006

The found banjo, the story and the happening,
A few of us saw it.
I believe that you were wearing a raincoat
and your eyes went away wet.
I could not even stand to look,
So I had to turn around.

He takes a look around and
Says, "This is rough country,
This is where trails are born."
Says, "Goddamn got a right to,"
Pulling a deed from his back pocket,
And I signed the thing over to him.

a voice: “self-help . . . self-involved . . .
. . . a pattern of getting it wrong.”

Close-ups shot in passing headlights,
home video
and found sound.

A scene in the middle of nowhere,
"it's very nowhere, this scene."

“We are looking for El Stinko,
La Stinka,
over here in the Sigh Factory Outlet.”

We hunt through caves,
comb the countryside,
intercept and misread signals.

“the body is telling you that something is not right.”

B-movie actor/truck driver, Jefferson Jefferson,
a union man and a man with hands, resolve.
A burning in his gastro-intelligence
told him that he needed to make a change.

Put finger in the eye, Shakey,
Our cake is dough on both sides.

In his favorite interview
Warren Oates is said to say,
"This sure beats working,"
and a smiling Ben Johnson agrees,
"It does. It sure beats working."

"quick, quizzical half moves...
Tharp's language for the working class." [j. acocella]

(He dreamt last night of salted peanuts
and today he ate salted peanuts.
He was a free thinker,
He never charged a dime for what he did!
He led orchestration in a thing called the Monster Symphony.
(I will write a lot more about him later.))

I lost an ad campaign and
my family had to foot the bill—

Spun round,
Paralyzed. (Paralyzezed)

I put my high heels on,
For it was the year of the blue jeans.
I rode my horse into town,
the mile of 18 above the ground.
I dug around,
I got ‘em big rig-rounded,
I put you down,
And I put myself down.

It was the year of the blue jeans
and beauty queens.
Angelic dreams.

To the tired teachers of Doug Lipscomb:
When You Don't Need Me I'll Be In The Recovery Room
A big, empty high school gymnasium—
now that is art.
And when Doug walked slowly across it, his chin on his chest,
it was sublime.

Arms and legs akimbo
in New Missouri.

Learn to keep your lip down,
and your face coherent,
and the sky may not fall.

(in a barely audible home video sound)
“Think yer pretty smart, don’t you?”
“You are making yourself old.”
“You are a bum.”
A silhouetted shape wades into the picture,
preaches from pools of glistening emotion
a kind of thick sadness,
almost like you could grab it in your hands and break it.
“The eyes hurt.”

“I am sorry that I shortened our time together by 20, 30 years . . . “
“ . . . more . . .”

Cute Devil and Cute Devil
Theirs was a finely calibrated series of eye contacts.

I had said to the arresting officers that I was “the sober chaufeur.”
Bathed in flashing blue and red siren lights,
The bunch of them thought that was pretty hilarious!
And it was, really.

Seis de Mayo—
La Seisa, we call it,
the day after. . .

post-video, the shoot,
everything is scattered into corners
waiting and thinking
i have been mean
casually cool is
in no way casual
and in no way cool
and you sure did know
“you sure did know a lot of people in there.”
“that’s the thing in this town.”
rhymes with frown
rhymes with gown
the new word lown
and it somehow rhymes with you
and mean rhymes with short
and hung with over

Thursday, August 24, 2006

State of the Union

You asked all of them to leave
in that special way you have of not asking,
and some time later you think you may go mad so lonely,
but such is not madness,
and such is not loneliness.

You may no longer claim to be the great ape hayseed.

Progress tonight will be judged by the number of cigarettes you do not smoke,
the number of drinks you do not imbibe,
and you are 0-for-Alot.
It is well to feel proud—
There is no secret to the fact you could stand to afford yourself a great deal more pride.
This necessity is, in fact, about the only thing you can now afford!
Be not spendthrift, Abe, be not threadbare,
for you have a holy heart
and a well-travelled pair of shoes.
And you have so much work to do.

Thursday, August 17, 2006

and may we be round
that we may roll
and may we be round
that we may roll
and may we be sound--
i can hear you now

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

Lindsay and Justin Stone
Highway Z, Rocky Mount, August 2006
Photo by Kathy Tennison

Sunday, August 06, 2006

the porch tonight is
every porch i have sat
each conversation

one i have held close
and i am alone with the
multitude of me

when my sister asks
if i have had the pleasure
of watermelon

Saturday, August 05, 2006

At times you appear in what I think to be a blue car,
And other times I see you in a green car.
I guess I may be looking for you everywhere that I go,
And everybody looks like you,
With pulled-back hair and a straight-ahead stare,
Such a curious face!
I try to memorize your license plate, but the numbers change,
And my memories rearrange.
Cinéma vérité, a windshield,
A world exploding in light.
The car and myself and you and ourselves and this town and an infinite possibility,
Urged the curve of a highway,
Carried and carrying on.
Sunglasses you give nothing away.

Thursday, August 03, 2006

amid the noise and the artifacts
a paucity of word