AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!!

This song is stuck in my head and I am searching
searching
struggling
tumbling
for the words
Words that were pouring out of my mouth as I
dropped my eldest off at school
Looking at blinking lights
Taking a detour
This melody popped up in my head and
I could hear baritone saxaphones
I could hear black women wailing away
I could hear Zirkel on the bass
Rumbling, a fifth string a la Bubba Hernadez
Down in the depths of low
And I was tapping a wild rhythm on my coffee cup
WIth a green pen that should be purple
Because the casing is purple But Whatever
I drive past the convenience store
With the illicit videos of people bashing each
other in the head that makes me ALWAYS want to stop
And rush in and say to the owner,
“Couldn’t you find anything with less blood?”
But I always keep on driving
Someone else can take up that battle
My plate is ridiculous…I know I know…
And I rush in the house
Lance is at the computer,
“It’s coming! A song is coming!”
He doesn’t turn his head looks straight ahead
But I see a smile, a slight tilt in his chin
I’m at the kitchen table, now
Settled in, bouncing, my guitar on my lap
Smelling Holly’s flowers—wild cinnamon
amongst the green–
The flowers are covering me in the scent
of something tangible
I am scribbling furiously
And then…it stops!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And here I am
With these damn saxa-ma-phones
Wrangling me, ceaselessly, in my mind
I’m in this corral with wild horses
Wanting Mick Jagger to slap my tongue
And release what is bursting to come out—
oh, I want to scream
These unseen words
When in creeps doubt and says
No way it’s coming out
That Satanic bastard! That cheapskate! That fun
ruiner!…Damn you!
I think
I teach a class on this shit! How can you be stomping
in on my parade?
And so I ran in here
To blog-og-og OMG
I’m just going to write and write and
Not be uptight
Just keep that feeling insight
To brew and expand
When ka-blooey! IT will blow
And I’ll next be on stage saying,
“Listen to THIS!“
And have something new
And loud
and outside
a
la
Gary
Nemec.