moon traveller herald

The Drunken Silenius Silenius tutor to Dionysus - buy that poet a port, upend the apple cart of hokum and decorum and spill the wine spodee-odee nowhere now to go but round and round while your young in the Fogg and larger Forest. Addenda 1 - I am a long way now from the portrait of the poet as a mystical drinker. But chance led me to the Fogg Museum, and more chance had me lingering, yesterday, while others came and went, in front of the painting, the painting by Francesco Fracanzano of a satyrists' symposium centered around young Silenius and his younger-yet student Dionysus (shown here idly peeing). Just like a songster soft-voiced  mountain singer who might have a special reverence for a bluesman like Skip James or Charlie Patton, I have learned to hold a regard for  the drunken poet - the one of less accomplishment but more traffic with the creative motherload because of his intoxicated immoderation. I think of Eric Burdon's Spi...

This one was written together with several friends...together with several friends (Oct 2006) When I got to that town I found me a home Glad but I found the twilight zone Not a horrible one It cheered the late bloomer An offbeat episode With droll black humor In a halfway house Stuck halfway The sun in the morning was a big red flame ...   FOR MORE

One Night in Carnak's Tabernacle - 1 i. Metropolis, my Lionel set Grim patriot city in the basement  Of my dream. Spooling out with your chutes of Subways ii. They have a new Poe statue in Boston. He is not up on a pedestal. We'll it's modern times isn't it? He looks like a muppet. It's come to this. Welcome back to frog ponderous. At street level he can fulfill final purpose. To have his picture taken with people just off a tourist trolley people who have heard of him. And Edward Everett Hale, in peace, on  his  pedestal, in  the Public Garden , chuckles to Poe's everlasting dread. iii. I came to the east Where it was all blowing up Clear and obvious Going to New York To experience the apocalypse Told the little girl in creative writing I got to go to the center of hell! Go to the city ...

By T.W. Zickcrewe When I first got to town I went to demarks swing club They had them shimmy dancers – and them Shakespeare plays 0. When I got to that town I found me a home Glad but I found the twilight zone Not a horrible one It cheered the late bloomer An offbeat episode With droll black humor In a halfway house Stuck halfway The sun in the morning was a big red flame i. In the land of trees where there are no leaves trucks and mystics and misfit knees The tie-dyed streets All looked inviting I wore some shades To adjust the lighting Wandered like a sailor with a self-distain so I left Goldwater for the golden plain. ii. The heater I had would freeze and die the girls down that way walked streets on the side People half-smiled As if in the know When I started to talk Their heels turned to go Chased a shimmy dancer In a Shakespeare play I left that town For Fortuna way Why'm I heading for Fortuna? Why'm I talking to myself? Where's the girl I left in Boston? In the fog...