Archive for April, 2010
Playing singing banging the drums strumming the gitfiddle rockin’ the hard like a coal train running out of control down the mountain into a bus full of orphan nuns. Not perfect far from it but the best I got, right now!
I’m out of here blowing across the early morning sky, Halley’s comet on methamphetamine blazing a trail through time and space a worm in the brain of the Universe , contrail bow-wave no-wake zone be damned I’m kicking up a wave baby that will swamp the boat of day-to-day like the Poseidon. Adventure! In the belly of the iron beast screaming West then South and back around again. Magellan ain’t got nothin’ on me, I’m going up and coming down again, in and out, back and forth, four days on the road and tires smoking.
Go, man, go!
Lon Chaney Phantom of the Opera forehead tight eyes bulging nostrils flaring piano wire taut humming in the wind reverberating oscillating finding final wavelength and just short of snapping stretching ever so slightly relaxing failing to fail. Re-tighten slowly, pull up to a natural eeee, play that tune and stay on pitch. All is good. All is fine.
Down, down like a Mustang chasing the Luftwaffe’s best in a target-fixation flaming hayride to oblivion via a French farm field. Power shutting down, lights dimming the hotrod spins a bearing shelling the high-powered V-8 like an oyster on a hubcap plate. Nose down, power on, sprint till you drop then fall where you stand, tanks empty, charge depleted…gone fission.
Oh, yeah, it’s all rolling now like a snowball’s chance in Hell to throw the rider like a rip-snorting wild Mustang on a suicide run across the desert off the edge of the crazy Grand Canyon full of frightened tourists and flaming burros smoking short fat mexican cigars out of the side of sneering leering donkey lips eyes bugging tails wagging poop flying down to the Colorado River to shoot the rapids all the way to the Gulf of California. Breathe, Bucky, breathe in the sweet air of freedom as you gain your speed and burst out of the grip of the Earth’s gravity on a huge arcing ride past the sun and into the infinite void of expression. Moving, man! Moving!
The madman morning glory sunrise hit the face of the earth like Julie Newmar’s open-hand slap to a leering catsuit loving fanboy and the race was on. Whip that mule and spur the world into a careening pinball demolition derby of cosmic glory.
It’s a hardrocking showdown here in the Western World with crazed zombies and crazier guitar slingers fighting for what’s left of the civilization we all knew and loved and flushed down the toilet of history in a mad orgy of consumerist overconsumption and oil-fueled dreams of nirvana. Life has changed and will never go back to the Bobbsey Twin era of big-finned cars and French sexpots that we all grew up in and thought we would die in. Strap in and hang on because the ride is gonna get a bit weird at times and I can’t be bothered with worrying over your safety or sanity.