Archive for the ‘Canzones’ Category

Stones Jones Canzone

April 27, 2011

“The Stones in Morocco”, the first of my Rolling Stones canzones, appears in the April issue of The Flea!



November 17, 2010

The cinema. A stage. Extraneous light
in artificial space. But what have we done
with our defining grace and gift of light,
our longing for a circle of delight?
What brave new world is shining in our face
from cherubed angles narrowing our light
and measuring the music? Holy light
is foiled as a replacement for the whole
of heaven–the reflection for the whole.
In darkened rows a Mass beholds the light
and chokes on dusty particles of time
that glisten in the blush of curtain time.

“I’m late!” the rabbit cries, believing time
runs parallel, if second place, to light
across some dreaded finish line. This time,
he’s right. I see it’s medication time
as watches slide through fur on chains and dun
the audience with open-ended time
demands. Let’s get on line. In space. On time.
Let’s imitate the sweeping hand-on-face
routine. Wake up! Sit straight! And listen!–face
the stage. It’s late! That ticking is the time
you wasted. Wait! The rabbit’s in a hole
and *tock*, already… Fire in the hole!

at Circle in the Square. Well, that’s the whole
magilla/enchilada, Ellis. Time
for tea. Let’s say we join the jack-a-hole
who’s hawking hats in sizes half and whole.
“How do you take it, Sugar, dark or light
or something in between?” He dumps the whole
Krups percolator somewhere near the hole
that spins with starlight in your cup, “You’re done,”
he snarls between the cakes. His dishes done
in staggered stacks, the Hatman eyes the hole
a mouse cut in the cheese. “He would deface
the provolone.” What fury’s in a face!

But wait a minute, there’s another face
revolving in the precious java hole
of china white. I wouldn’t have you face
the facts, considering the floating face
of Dr. Katz keeps smiling all the time
in holographic green. His northern face
is hung with moss. There’s fungus on the face.
“Forget the facts,” a grin of feisty light
and cracking teeth imparts and fades to light.
A problem: Close your eyes–you’ll see the face
of Dr. Katz. So this is how its done.
Forget the facts …forget the facts? It’s done.

A queen in red. A queen in black. I done
forgot my axe! But one dissolving face
or head is quite enough. And it’s been done.
Still, catty compliments are never done–
“I like your dress.” “You look divine”. The whole
charade and shuffled deck (the deal) is done.
With everything on her “To Do List” done,
the red one starts to get undressed. In time,
her rival takes it off. They take their time
on Tangos Palatine. And when they’re done
you close your eyes. The Doctor’s in, the light
comes up. There are mouse tracks and your wallet’s light.

But what have we done with our defining light?
What did we drink that shrinks us all the time?
Who was the worm that smoked and talked the whole
time we endeavored to enquire, his face
a pasty galaxy? What have we done?


May 7, 2010

(Mark 14:40)

“Why do you refuse to let me talk
to you about our Savior, Jesus Christ?
I called you yesterday—you couldn’t talk.
I dropped by Saturday, and there was talk
about your calling the police! Relent.
We need to have a tête-à-tête, to talk
about the Nazarene. Yes, really talk!
Salvation may be hanging in the balance,
yours and mine—in fact the balance
of humanity’s. We gotta talk.
Hello? You listening? Hello? Hello!
Pick up! I know you’re there. Hello! Hello!?!”

“(Oh, Jesus Christ, it’s him again) Hello.
Hey! Jim! You know how much I love to talk
to you about my soul, but, um, …He-llo—oh!,
It’s 3 a.m.! Yeah! So, how about: ‘Hello,
Police? Some freakin’ Anorak for Christ
is stalking me. He wears a goddam Hello
Kitty sweatshirt.’ Ya like that Jim? Hello-o!
You listening? It’s you who must relent,
my friend. Repent! But most of all,… relent.
You’re making life a living Hell. Oh,
that’s OK, right? Mr. Perfect Balance
of the mind and soul? I like what you call balance!”

“It’s apropos that you should mention balance,
Geoffrey. Good and bad. Goodbye, hello—
well, doesn’t daily life suggest a balance
we maintain on earth? We balance
time and money. And we like to talk
about the time and money that we balance
in the act of giving. It’s the balance
that we owe our dear lord Jesus Christ
that matters, Geoffrey. For we know that Christ
performed a high wire act on earth. His balance
bar ensured he’d neither falter nor relent.
That polished rod of aspen, Geoffrey, lent

him ballast and a righteous staff. Relent
and pray with me. O, everything is balance.”
“But Jimmy, I gave balance up for Lent.
That’s right! I find it quite irrelevant.
Come back next Saturday and say hello.
I’ll gladly show you how I do ‘relent.’
And ‘balance’ too!” “I’ve lent an ear. Re-lent
it. But I haven’t had a chance to talk.
I’ve suffered all of your abusive talk
and prayed in silence that you might relent
and let me get a word in edgewise: Christ!
The Word. The light! Our savior Jesus Christ.”

“You really want to lecture me on Christ?
OK. I’m wide awake. And I relent.
Your dime. You called me at the crack of Christ
to tell me something I don’t know, so: Christ.
I hope this doesn’t throw you too off balance,
pal, but I’m all ears. Well… gimme Christ
the way I never had him. Show me Christ
with bells and whistles. Talk to me. Hello?
Hey Jim! It’s Christ-O-Rama time. Hello?
Ya with me Jim? Good morning! (…Jesus Christ)
I thought that balance crap was crazy talk.
I hear you breathing, motherfucker. Talk!”

“Perhaps it’s better, Geoffrey, if you talk
to the police. And tell them that I said ‘Hello,’ ”
“What is that supposed to mean?” “Find balance,
Geoffrey. Somewhere in this virulent
exchange let Judas put the screws to Christ.”