Lonesome Coyote
Random scribblings -- poems, song lyrics, novel excerpts, maybe a short story a time or two, possibly even a drawing once in a while, an occasional rant -- from the last 25 years or so, with no claim made for their merit or value, simply a demonstration of their existence.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Monday, January 16, 2012
American Elegance
Ulysses S. Grant told his doctor
Fact is I think I'm a verb
A verb is anything that signifies to be
To do, to suffer
Fact is, I signify all three
Allen Iverson is a verb meaning
To get from here to there
Like that! (The way he did it)
Your game is what you are
Sister Edward Mary played the autoharp for us
Though not like Kilby Snow
But even so, even so
I was never afraid of anything living
Was what the gunslinger told me
Except for ghosts
And now I've outlived that
The pure products of America go crazy
Wrote the kindly physician
But, Josie, I'm still feeling pretty good
For an old man in my condition
Got to find some peace and quiet
I've been listening to John Cage
There is the real American elegance
Said Pablo Picasso while gazing upon Honest Abe
Torturetown
I raised them with the tears of my eyes
Look how these devils came and took them
They were just gone, overnight
These are tales told, verbatim, in Torturetown
Torturetown, Torturetown
These are tales told in Torturetown
Many people were tortured more than me
I just wanted to save my soul
I wonder why they did it
These are tales told, verbatim, in Torturetown
Torturetown, Torturetown
These are tales told in Torturetown
Why does one human being
Want to break the soul of another?
My son accepts his destiny
as something already written
These are tales told, verbatim,
in Torturetown
Torturetown, Torturetown
These are tales told
in Torturetown
Well might you ask
Where is this Torturetown?
Well might you ask
Where can it be found?
Well might you ask
Where is this Torturetown
Well might you ask
Where can it be found?
Not all that far away from here
Somewhere right close around
Somewhere where your flight touches down
I don't know who that is
I don't know who that is
I told you I don't know who that is
I don't know who that is
I don't know who that is
I told you, I don't know who that is
Interrogation
Elimination
Termination
Liquidation
Salvage
Interrogation
Elimination
Termination
Liquidation
Salvage
Look how these devils came and took them
They were just gone, overnight
These are tales told, verbatim, in Torturetown
Torturetown, Torturetown
These are tales told in Torturetown
Many people were tortured more than me
I just wanted to save my soul
I wonder why they did it
These are tales told, verbatim, in Torturetown
Torturetown, Torturetown
These are tales told in Torturetown
Why does one human being
Want to break the soul of another?
My son accepts his destiny
as something already written
These are tales told, verbatim,
in Torturetown
Torturetown, Torturetown
These are tales told
in Torturetown
Well might you ask
Where is this Torturetown?
Well might you ask
Where can it be found?
Well might you ask
Where is this Torturetown
Well might you ask
Where can it be found?
Not all that far away from here
Somewhere right close around
Somewhere where your flight touches down
I don't know who that is
I don't know who that is
I told you I don't know who that is
I don't know who that is
I don't know who that is
I told you, I don't know who that is
Interrogation
Elimination
Termination
Liquidation
Salvage
Interrogation
Elimination
Termination
Liquidation
Salvage
Friday, January 13, 2012
Reason
To look at anything straight
With any degree of honesty
Is to be mad
Divorced of context
Nothing can withstand such scrutiny
Consider: The incivility of mirrors
The angularity of time
The power of snow
The justice of loneliness
The insularity of caution
The risk of daylight
The tenure of confidence
The intricacy of breath
The honor of mendacity
There are times I rage, times I tremble
Sometimes it's time to go up on the bridge and blow your horn
I couldn't shoot down a mad dog in the middle of the street
With any degree of honesty
Is to be mad
Divorced of context
Nothing can withstand such scrutiny
Consider: The incivility of mirrors
The angularity of time
The power of snow
The justice of loneliness
The insularity of caution
The risk of daylight
The tenure of confidence
The intricacy of breath
The honor of mendacity
There are times I rage, times I tremble
Sometimes it's time to go up on the bridge and blow your horn
I couldn't shoot down a mad dog in the middle of the street
Patti
Dance the dance
Trance the trance
Trance the dance
Dance the trance
Host the host
Ghost the ghost
Ghost the host
Host the ghost
Play the play
Gray the gray
Gray the play
Play the gray
Time the time
Rhyme the rhyme
Time the rhyme
Rhyme the time
Eye the eye
Why the why
I the I
Eye the why
Why the I
I the why
I the eye
Why the eye
Eye the I
Overcome
Come over
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