Pages

Thursday, 19 February 2026

So, the quiet....

 Siting one's mobile cave at just the right rarely travelled roadside,

the small stream alongside covering up any snoring

All their wintering words,  even if i certainly won't ever read that one

I know: comfy cocooned, 

entombed

"cacao to keep me all sweet and childlike" 

what they really want is to be rewombed

Just a bit of rain

"ohh woe is me what pain!"


But the art, of nothing, nowhere, 

is certainly to tune out anyone here

Sit a while (i can still perch cross legged, what have i to moan about)

and pitter patter 

(siting onesself away from the trees, as there its bang bang splatter)

and curl up later on with one of them...

The problem being with America

How can one disentangle the dodgy gobby redneckism

(that isn't, just like here, mainly "i want more.." supersized fridges pickuptrucks and i guess tvs ...

 Bovarian cancer just like Rupert's Lowe.. down, farmer act.)

from a good one: Hollywood, sometimes even 'Indie'...

.... fairy tales or the best of parables? In a fine,  especially 80s,  especially NYC, romantic movie.

.....ahh yes  ... "who the fuck are you?...!!!???"

.... even if addicted to only one thing, quiet! silence... only soundtrack, just the birds (lately ive found places where they dawn-argue over an atch, not over it, over the only thing that separates one side of the atch from the other, " cmon tart LISTEN! to me ,,,, i'm groovier than that other one yonder corner....")

i had no idea she was a Mary Moviestar, too

as the moment i hear a smallest chirp of a Suzzy 

in soundtrack,  as well as a minorish role


I am straight back

bugger me about eighty two

how on earth did i stumble across, them, then

that became one hundred percent, me 

The only ones who aged really well



"disease" still sung with supreme irony


I ain't the only onewho's got this disease
Why don't you face the factyou old upstartWe fall apart


When every so called folk singer of the Swest

a virulent shoulder hunched infectious,, pest



and offspring avoids becoming next-generation hopeless junkie



never mind, for all cave dwelling, even worst of all misery

three women  the only ones, ever.... who found the real remedy:

laughin' at oneself, and all them others 

in the worlds greatest ever lingua franca

if in the hands of real genius, anywhere, even over there

gentle ... Sardonese....