...A BIG BIRD IN A COOL THE NIGHT...

for Charlie BIRD
Parker:

as twilight slips in like some
esquisite fine chick in the thinnest
sleekest silk sheath
I bend an ear t' 1944 recordings
o' Bird
oozin' out o' the box
'n' all that frustration 'n' angst
seems jes s'lame
its like Bird's sweet sweetest Horn
be sayin' jes t' me alone:
"Man,why don' y'be Coolthe?
all that pent up violence
'n' nowhere shit
is s' from hunger, y' DIG?
like, be COOLTHE, BABY!
don' be lettin' that shit
drag y'down
there
t' that square
drugged scene..."
'n' man, I hear that MESSAGE
that BIRD be layin' down
from SOMEWHERE
OUT THERE
in spite o' all that
Cosmo Debris
that do be
tryin' t' obscure
'n' veil
what needs t' be
revealed
t' cats such as I
still scufflin' here
in these neonesque
streets o' Blues
s' I place m' lips
upon Lady Night
'n' let all that
negative shit slide
'n' disipate
'n' I COOLTHE
y'dig?
'n' Lady Moon
Lady Night
'n' that Bird
siloutted upon
Her orb o'
platinum
caresses me
m'eyes
m' hurtin' flesh
'n' somehow I am
finally
possessed
by that Ecstasy
that
Nirvana
that all them there
mystics
'n' Sufi Dervishes
'n'
Boddhisatvas
sought
in all them places
I jes could never
MAKE IT
nor fake IT
jes bendin' an ear
t' a Big Bird
in a Coolthe Night
m' lips pressed t'
in darkest tender Kiss
o' nocturnal bliss
yes!
o,man,yes!
can y' DIG?
why jazz do IT for
cats like
me
'n' probably
thee?

-Gypsy James/ApocoHipster Hashshashin

for Charlie BIRD Parker

...A BIG BIRD IN A COOLTHE NIGHT...

as twilight slips in like some
esquisite fine chick in the thinnest
sleekest silk sheath
I bend an ear t' 1944 recordings
o' Bird
oozin' out o' the box
'n' all that frustration 'n' angst
seems jes s'lame
its like Bird's sweet sweetest Horn
be sayin' jes t' me alone:
"Man,why don' y'be Coolthe?
all that pent up violence
'n' nowhere shit
is s' from hunger, y' DIG?
like, be COOLTHE, BABY!
don' be lettin' that shit
drag y'down
there
t' that square
drugged scene..."
'n' man, I hear that MESSAGE
that BIRD be layin' down
from SOMEWHERE
OUT THERE
in spite o' all that
Cosmo Debris
that do be
tryin' t' obscure
'n' veil
what needs t' be
revealed
t' cats such as I
still scufflin' here
in these neonesque
streets o' Blues
s' I place m' lips
upon Lady Night
'n' let all that
negative shit slide
'n' disipate
'n' I COOLTHE
y'dig?
'n' Lady Moon
Lady Night
'n' that Bird
siloutted upon
Her orb o'
platinum
caresses me
m'eyes
m' hurtin' flesh
'n' somehow I am
finally
possessed
by that Ecstasy
that Nirvana
that all them there
mystics
'n' Sufi Dervishes
'n'
Boddhisatvas
sought
in all them places
I jes could never
MAKE IT
nor fake IT
jes bendin' an ear
t' a Big Bird
in a Coolthe Night
m' lips pressed t'
in darkest tender Kiss
o' nocturnal bliss
yes!
o,man,yes!
can y' DIG?
why jazz do IT for
cats like
me
'n' probably
thee?
Gypsy James/ApocoHipster Hashshashin

Love 'n' Peace o' Mind 'n' Ecstasy even be on y',
Gypsy James

untitled

Luchy Edwards, 2007

Seasonal Affective Orders (SAO)

I am curious if any of our readers are drawn to certain titles at certain times of the year. For example, every summer finds me reading and re-reading, rediscovering, Faulkner. The urge is never there until high summer and then I am hunting good Will and voraciously consuming his Southern (dis)comforts. Come to think of it, the Fall has me reading mostly biographies and literary and cultural criticism, the winter is especially concentrated on poetry, and spring? Anything goes. But since 2000 or so, Faulker mania comes a-knockin' in June or July and takes me on until just past Labor Day. Hey, readers! Any of you "suffer" from this condition?
CURLEY

Literacy & Idiocy Part II

The idiocy in this culture is critically endemic; not sure about the literacy but today's holiday merits a response, a rebuttal, a kerosene-wetted, upside-down flag. Are American citizens truly reading the writing on the walls? There is very little to celebrate if you sit down and read the history books or scratch the topical air for the residual stains of empirical evidence. Empirical--empire...a sad, bloated beast is good ol' America, a clumsy moloch lacking stomach enzymes to sate itself, therefore eating as much of the world as it deems fit for its voracious regimen/regime. Americans, be proud, tho' pride is a sin, and maintain your one noble consistency, the triumvirate of piety, preciousness, and paranoia...and be done with you.

written & conceived by: j. curley/m. scriblerus/k. o'farrell/& newcomer Stan Johnson....