Post Number: 46
|Posted on Tuesday, February 02, 2010 - 08:39 am: ||
Och, and the times they were
It’s the law of arrearages, I say
And that Germs Choice,
we’re all his gangsters
in our verbilious ruckmaking swayways
of sister Eve’s
What bodes with Baddyloosely?
“My infant my sister
I will be your mister
quick! down that alley where nothing’s except ordure and looks”
and there shea is, that booty,
slipping her ringtongue round your dingdong shhhhhhhh
What just desserts are here?
Why, it's nothing more than we'd do for the presquedent
if you'd believe them that tells
bad cess to them all and sundry
shea is whur shea is or shea isnt!
glimmerglam shivvershoes on her
and a shopping lust that's more than the two of us
Two died I say?
One we ayre
or is that wan?
No different than Tick from Tock
Shea’s still the shame
Hadn't I told you
Didn’t I tell you
It’s the Baddy Lairs
and the Bold old leery lusters
upchucking varses in drag
in the hinter regions
of the inter Knot
what nudes of nuggets
what passover flyploys
what oyster messengers
(did I see a WING there!
give it a gander
Bland blind St. Goosey is what a site!)
We goes on babblin and brooklyn
will we never seas the day
or the seasoning
oh ho there she goes with her drawers adroop
her panties a pied
(and me haven't peed for an hour
what air ya holdin it in for
is it the Second Cummings you’re waiting for?)
Have we flayed the peacock yet?
I could use a feather, a quill (I will)
My Smile is my Simile
and I lost my head for Semele
beep beep are you waiting still
In the dank tarn I rant (my dank tarn rant)
My hair will cost me, Vera
See it fall
Is that all
like a sweet young thing before puberty
(my tarn rant is tart!)
A true tail: I farted the other day
and the wife said:
“What did you say dear?”
It must have been a remark
and is there lightning out?
or is it lightening?
you’ll never get well if you swell
tumescence is turbulence sure
(that’s my tokology)
Out with it!
Out with it! Out with the
CATECHISM: ARGÜELLES TO FOLEY
subject: imaginary girl friends
What are imaginary girlfriends? That's what I say.
Are they the ones that stick like glue to the inside of your pants? Yes. Hence Pantsograph. Requiring a “press.”
Can you name any? Amy, Henrietta, whatever. They're imaginary, you can name them anything you like.
Have you ever had one? I have “had” all of them.
If so, what did you do with her? Yes.
Did she react to your bristles? Only when I asked her to. I also reacted to hers.
Did she have any kind of a past? She had every kind of a past.
Was she always there when you needed her? She was always here when I needed her.
Did you ever “need” her? I do nothing but “need” her.
Were you on your knees for her? Naturally. How else can you clean the floor?
Did she knead you, but hard? Oh, hardly!
Did Mom and Dad faint when they met her?
They didn't but I did.
Was she worth trashing after awhile? Sure.
Did she come back to haunt you in dreams? She never leaves my dreams.
Would you ever write a poem about her? Always do.
What kind of poem would “that” be? “That” poem.
Would you call it “Release me and let me love again”?
“and let me lust agayn”
Would you rather go to a monastery and study Thomism? I'd rather go to a monastery and study Madonna.
Do you still feel it was worth it?
I mean this imaginary life you call poetry?
After catechism, confession and release. Transformation. O Whoolly Fatermutt, ringding my renaissance, it's been yares since the last and maybe niver a gain, maybe only WARDS in thir foibleness is all that ere exploded in this vacumm of mine headset. Crusts for the cranium. Bliss me.
Jack Foley & Ivan Argüelles
from Saint James
Post Number: 76
|Posted on Monday, March 15, 2010 - 05:06 am: ||
I'll be doing a Saint Patrick's Day show this Wednesday, March 17th: KPFA, 94.1 FM, 3 p.m. West Coast Time.
The show will feature the Clancy Brothers singing various numbers and reciting a little from James Joyce's FINNEGANS WAKE. The Clancys also sing the raucous ballad, "Finnegan's Wake." That will be followed by James Joyce himself reading from his book: "Well you know or don't you ken it...." It's a beautiful, deeply musical reading.