plastichappy

robert zajkowski just breaks me with his wonderful words... here is his response to my poem from a couple posts ago:

yes
all there is
is yes
but then

but then
locusts
they dream

from eggs emerge
showers of
sodden nets

you're right
always right

there is more
to an ocean than water

there are boats

&
that floating
does wonders
for the surface

&
that
the bottom

the bottom
wants to rise
to reach
to clucth
to avenge its heavy curse

but that it is
dancing
that enters the sky

that
it's laughter
that is wieghtless

that it is love
that heals

what the world brings
it brings
begging light

forgive me
me
but i'm scared
that freedom
is a trick
with sharp bones
and
they'll know
it has been stolen

the most exciting words in sports... and
that is where we're at with The Dead
Eyed Boy... two more tech rehearsals then
we open on friday!!! hooray hooray!!!

sunday i had the pleasure of mixing high
life, cheap whiskey, zombies and drag.

anyone of which on its own could kill you
placed all together... a tremendous evening
which ended with free bacon at the bronx

i know... we all hate the bronx...
but where else you gonna go?
driving to bars is so passe

yesterday... stopped by neptune records and picked up the new magnolia electric co ep hard to love a man and a bonnie prince billy/matt sweeney (pictured above) single for i gave you. good stuff on both (a little disappointed with magnolia's rendition of werewolves of london... their live carmeleta was amazing) the bonny/sweeney single contains a song called four screams which is just amazing... opening lines:

She had a beautiful face
used to subjugate
like the sun subjugates
serving her was like
serving time itself
loving you is like
loving someone else
scream scream scream scream

bonnie billy's twisted beauty never ceases to break me...

the cold sun blistered
my warm ocean
and i forgot how to fear
my inclinations gathered
i decided this
cast off what is thrust upon
dance when there
is no moon
laugh with
tears in your mouth
love against
all this world's
hatred
i decided this

Well... we have finally closed out Two Men in a Box. Six weeks can be a long time to spend on a show. Had a great time working with and getting to know Joe Colosi. Great times also with Dan Roth who is now directing me in The Dead Eye Boy. Also Mr. Mike Fiedler cracked me up and played Nick Cave for me every day on the piano. Closed the show on Saturday in front of a wonderfully generous crowd and then it was scene missing time at the Seven Brothers Bar... between blue ribbon beers, the irish, and rollo's comavitsas, there was Bombay... martini style (oh joel... i love it how you order your martinis so dirty-- Gillian Eaton) Sunday morning was a little groggy but i was able to walk down to Fords Field to see the Detroit Lions lose by one point... one word describes that team: POOR. Spent the evening with old friends in town from the Pacific Northwest... the lovely Craig Castillo and Natalie Federof were in town for Craig's 30th. Also caught up with his sister Kelly... who i hadn't seen in years. it was great to catch up with her... she looks xactly the same. also times with Jon Todt and Nathan Holland. did some shirking on learning all my lines but i'll get them soon enough.
and did i mention friday? had a lovely night with my girl Nora. saturday morning she made me delicious coffee and served me caramel scones before i had to hit the road. she amazes me all the time.
live.
breathe.
love.

Had good times with Hawk at the 7 Bros.
Listened to great tunes and drank Jameson.
Only two more shows of Box left.
Hoping to hang with Nora this evening.
Gots to get off book for Dead Eye.
Gonna eat some Thai food.
Maybe drink some mate.
live.
breathe.
love.

Harold Pinter, a brilliant playwright, has been awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature. Here is what he had to say about the use of language in the world earlier this year.

Wilfred Owen Award Speech - 18 th March 2005

This is a true honour. Wilfred Owen was a great poet. He articulated the tragedy, the horror and indeed the pity – of war – in a way no other poet has. Yet we have learnt nothing. Nearly 100 years after his death the world has become more savage, more brutal, more pitiless.

But the “free world” we are told (as embodied in the United States and Great Britain) is different to the rest of the world since our actions are dictated and sanctioned by a moral authority and a moral passion condoned by someone called God. Some people may find this difficult to comprehend but Osama Bin Laden finds it easy.

What would Wilfred Owen make of the invasion of Iraq? A bandit act, an act of blatant state terrorism, demonstrating absolute contempt for the concept of International Law. An arbitrary military action inspired by a series of lies upon lies and gross manipulation of the media and therefore of the public. An act intended to consolidate American military and economic control of the Middle East masquerading – as a last resort (all other justifications having failed to justify themselves) – as liberation. A formidable assertion of military force responsible for the death and mutilation of thousands upon thousands of innocent people.

An independent and totally objective account of the Iraqi civilian dead in the medical magazine The Lancet estimates that the figure approaches 100,000. But neither the US or the UK bother to count the Iraqi dead. As General Tommy Franks (US Central Command) memorably said: “We don't do body counts”.

We have brought torture, cluster bombs, depleted uranium, innumerable acts of random murder, misery and degradation to the Iraqi people and call it “bringing freedom and democracy to the Middle East”. But, as we all know, we have not been welcomed with the predicted flowers. What we have unleashed is a ferocious and unremitting resistance, mayhem and chaos.

You may say at this point: what about the Iraqi elections? Well President Bush himself answered this question only the other day when he said “We cannot accept that there can be free democratic elections in a country under foreign military occupation”.

I had to read that statement twice before I realised that he was talking about Lebanon and Syria.

What do Bush and Blair actually see when they look at themselves in the mirror?

I believe Wilfred Owen would share our contempt, our revulsion, our nausea and our shame at both the language and the actions of the American and British governments.

--Harold Pinter

Sonnet of the Sweet Complaint

Never let me lose the marvel
of your statue-like eyes, or the accent
the solitary rose of your breath
places on my cheek at night.

I am afraid of being, on this shore,
a branchless trunk, and what I most regret
is having no flower, pulp, or clay
for the worm of my despair.

If you are my hidden treasure,
if you are my cross, my dampened pain,
if I am a dog, and you alone my master,

never let me lose what I have gained,
and adorn the branches of your river
with leaves of my estranged Autumn.

someone... anyone...
tell me the real difference between:
elegy and eulogy!

a favorite picture of mine...
Matt (Quickshot) Buzcko and Robert (El Aventurero) Zajkowski
had a great weekend with robert in town... small time and good talks... saw Blanche
on Saturday with Nora, Hawk, Annie, and Robert. Don't trust the Doctors!

hey, here's a photo of my boy Brian Wilson... the reformed gin drinker who now chooses vodka. he'll most likely stab me for that last remark but everyone needs a Kumar once in awhile.

heading into the last two weekends
for two men in a box... it has become
a very natural part of life.
rehearsals for the dead eye boy have
been going well at 1515 Broadway.
a tremendous script

robert (el aventurero) arrives by train
from chicago this evening... i'll retrieve
him from the stacione at Woodward
and Milwaukee. should be a good
weekend of catching up and cocktails.

i think the fall should be dedicated to
Bloody Marys... but that is just one
man's opinion.
then again i could really go for a
Ramos Gin Fizz prepared by the
incomparable jon todt.

"fair enough joe"
but i really gots to go!

just looking at some old poetry in the hopes
of spurring me on to new heights... here is
one of mine from the Braided Poems collection
between robert Z and myself:

Blue Brook/Red Rapids

Lips moving without a sound
the bank of my skull
is filled with elevator small talk
I don't remember how to ask for anything
I put all my prayers in a dumbwaiter
sent them up to God
they should reach him by the next century
if the lines don't give out
I lost a bet with a horse
he said the reason I work long hours is:
expensive shampoo and detergent that really gets the filth out
looks like I'll have to eat some crow
What do sheep count to make them sleep so innocent
doves circling overhead with a pearly gleam
they're sick and tired of stumping for peace
oily feathers stick together
Hurt makes me want to go and hurt
and I have a mandate of hate from the masses
I have chipped talons and a bloody beak
the peace blue brook turning to red rapids

had a terrific weekend
friday night show at the ant was ill attended, however
great times were had at 7 Brothers... talked for a while
with Brian Wilson (who to my dismay was drinking
vodka and vermouth and trying to pass it off as a martini)
ended up back at the ant for more revery and late night
pass outs. couldn't quite make Sinatra's Five O'clock Blue.
saturday the levee broke and people flooded into the ant
for a sold out show. nice energy and all around good times

Sunday night... nora and i had tickets for the sold out
White Stripes concert (thanx Hawk). what an amazing show
at the Masonic Temple in Detroit. Jack White is saving
Rock and Roll from a certain demise. an all out tour de force
of energy, blues, soul and ROCK.
who'd have thought that the Young Doctor's (Stephen Blackwell)
uncle would be the new Rock and Roll Messiah!!!

just crack a bottle of Old Florida and have a great week!!