Sunday, November 4, 2007

On The Floor, Eric Bachman and Singleton 2007













Watching the bold clock face
ticking down the brick wall,
tocking sepia lyrics
talking--unraveling

spilling

spelling

yesterday

and maybe

tonight.

Misfit makeshift couples--
Strangers two hours before
Three beers later
(who's counting?)
Folding like pages into
gray night moths
enveloped against, into, onto
each other by moonshine…
Desperate
for a Friday night love story.
(“Hey, what's your name, again?”)

But not us,
we laughed at the clock….
pick pocketing
Our last lines

We clinked! to the last call
and all that could’ve been
if we had risen to the occasion…..

To one last spin
one last dance
one last drink
the last of many tonight

And tomorrow,
we'll do it all one more time...
one more spin
one more sigil scribbled
on the back door stairwell

Everything is perfect
everything will burn
every night without end
when you're the Silver moths
in the black cantina...

43 comments:

singleton said...

clink!

singleton said...

They won't catch us,
they'll never know we're here,
we always get away with it,
scribbling in the dark....
Oh, they'll laugh, or huff and cuss, in the morning,
"Damned kids at it again",
but they never
kilz
the fingerprints,
prime the words....
no, they always leave
the shadows,
the bleed-throughs,
the told-you-so's,
to prove that we were really here....

silver moths in the black cantina...

eric1313 said...

Graffiti, they call it;
blames, names, numbers
good times, bad times.

Somtimes it washes off
in the windblown rain,
but always there's a mark
in the back of their minds.

That's the effect it has:
graffiti for a good time
graffiti for a wild ride
graffiti on the walls,
on the walks
in their eyes.

Nothing sacred in this city
nothing of dire consequence
nothing to lose a head over
nothing to scream and shout
unless it's about love.

Unless it's scribbled
in the living dark.

It's nothing to die for
we'll never get caught.

The night makes us a promise
and we'll run with it forever.

singleton said...

Huge Clink!
HUGE!

singleton said...

She wanders in at ten
big mascara
and Dolly Pardon Me hair,
basket of goodies hanging
from a limp wrist,
dollar bills braided through
her fingers.

"She sells love"....,
stuffed animals with plastic chokers
nylon roses, long stemmed and
just $2.99,
velvet glow in the dark cards
....

Her lips curl
smoke doing curly ques
paisley passe' come-on-lines....

"She sells love"
and it lasts for
all of a laugh.....

singleton said...

He's dark and mistakenly handsome,
shiney dress shoes,
the car salesman's indulgence,
peeking out from under
his casually
faded jeans
and for a moment
I'm fooled....
he toasts
to everything
Goldschlagers slurped
one up
one sip
one sign your name on the dotted line
and then he does what they always
do
what they're paid to do
trained to do....
moves in to close the deal....




And I laugh at his shoes....

eric1313 said...

Buy some, baby.
Try some, maybe.

"Everybody's doing it"
a plush doll face
with mommy-love-me-eyes.

"She sells love"
and it's going fast
wait one more minute
and it's gone.

eric1313 said...

That one went with...

Well, you know. This is a note to me, later, when I put these in the drafts folder.

Clink!

singleton said...

ha!
Did you have a good week-end? I'm not ready to give it up to Monday!

The Butterfly Bar said...

I had a great weekend, just reading and writing. Building up to that grand finale I see in my star eyed vision.

singleton said...

Layin' your money on the table, huh? I started All my Friends are Going to Be Strangers....in the midst of a million other things....and then couldn't put it down....And I can only read in the sunlight.....so....I'll be climbing back into it next weekend when there's more light in the day....

singleton said...

Do you do most of your writing on the keyboard or on paper? Just curious.....

The Butterfly Bar said...

It's a great novel. That first page is something else, huh?

I'd never heard the word "fuckist" in my life. Danny Deck is a classic character, though. You'll like him. He reminds me of myself.

The Butterfly Bar said...

I do most of it right here on the walls with keys. Oddly enough, isn't it? I guess that's the new generation.


That poem I wrote down by hand for "Justgivemepeace" took an hour to do. My handwriting is terrible...

singleton said...

That was for "GimmePeace" and it's hangin on my walls.....A friend stood their last week-end forever reading it, eyes squinching, smiling......

"one more sigil scribbled on the walls of the butterfly bar".....

singleton said...

I like him already.... and I'm only 50 pages in......

The Butterfly Bar said...

That's right. And I knew you'd love All My Friends... McMurtry is really good with words. You ever see the movie "The Last Picture Show"? Or "Terms of Endearment"?

singleton said...

I don't think so....I'm really bad about movies....they have to be on DVD or at the drive ins before I see them (They don't have drive ins anymore do they?)Actually I can probably name every movie I ever saw in just about three minutes......
Favorites....
Whose Afraid of Virginia Wolf
Whatever happened to Baby Jane
Moulin Rouge
oh, maybe it might take me more than a few minutes....

singleton said...

Have you ever read anything by Wally Lamb?

singleton said...

Well, not just anything, have you read
I know this much is true or
She's come undone?

The Butterfly Bar said...

No I haven't. I'll keep an ey open at the bookstore, though. I always like a good recomendation.

I know you've read Kahlil Gibran and Harper Lee. I loved To Kill A Mockingbird.

The Butterfly Bar said...

Yeah, I already bought a new copy of "All My Friends..." I love it tht much. That's why I knew it would be a good gift.

singleton said...

They're both favorites. I can't keep the Prophet, always find someone who needs it more at the moment and give it away....Miss having a copy here....it's like having divination at my fingertips...

I know this much is True.....is truly the best 500 pages of writing I have ever read.....And I've read it several times....and given it away as many....Fiction that you know is true....

singleton said...

Books that you're forever replacing, only to be given away again, are the best....And I'm glad you shared....

The Butterfly Bar said...

It was the only way to go. I had to give you something good for that artwork.

singleton said...

I made out like a bandit!

singleton said...

I gotta run and switch my days and nights, tomorrows Monday, and I can't do it the same way I do Saturday and Sunday.....Can't wear hand-me-down levi's and bedhair to work!
peace~love my butterfly friend

The Butterfly Bar said...

Uh oh...


"I made out like a bandit!"
she said flipping a quarter
in the bartender's fishbowl.

Everyone nudged and ribbed
and smirked and jibed

But she knew a bargain
knew how to steal the deal.

She twisted the cap off
another ice cold cowboy
downed the last jello shot,
she turned and walked out
into the slipshod night,
leaving them in a daze
their mouths hanging agape
like pink flytraps that
Venus would never fall for.

"I guess she must have..."
the old barfly on the wall
said to his apprentice
who said to the waitress
"I wish I was a bandit"
who spun on high heel, saying
"You wish you were the victim"
and winked, spun round and
walked away to the guys
and the girls at the jukebox
jamming Led and Jimi and Janice
for the thousandth time that week.

It was just your average night
at a better than that corner bar,
but the one who knew best of all
was the bandit just outside
the rusting brown front door,
stealing their thoughts and
scribbling each of them down
in her book of dream-spells,
before last call came and went
before her moonlight flight home.

They never know what to expect--
let alone exactly what she means

singleton said...

She loves their borrowed faces
Harlequin lies
in cheap perfume....
9:00 mystery
with midnight punch.....

Who knew they sold beer at the circus?

KarmaLennon said...

Mmmm.....that's all. This just makes me go mmmm.....:)

Maithri said...

When I was a little boy, I was given a butterfly net.

Next door to my house was a development site.. clay, and concrete and weeds mainly... not pretty... but to me it was paradise...because it would attract hundreds of big brown and yellow butterflies, with little black eyes on both wings. (For the longest time i thought butterflies could see with their wings).

I would chase them for hours, casting my little safari net out and trying to capture their beauty, to bring their dance a little closer to my heart... but when i caught them they would stop flying. Stop their tiptoed ballet. They would lie still.. like broken marionettes... Until I set them free again and they could resume their rapturous vertiginous reeling and wheeling through the eddies and rivulets of the winds.

So after a time - I learnt to leave my net at home. And come to the field and watch them from afar... for freedoms sake. For the simple pleasure of beholding the transient dance of joy as it unfolded across the sky.

When I come here. Or to your lovelit site Singleton. Or to yours Eric.

I am that child again.

Sending you the light,

Maithri

singleton said...

karma...
I think mmmmmmmmmm
is one of the greatest words in the human language, universal....understood.... wonderful!
Thank you sweet one!

Maithri....
I followed you into the clay pits, running with you....and watched them.....Their grace, and I know ballet was created in their image.....Their song, etched in the skies...Mozart for the moment....Their colors, paint buckets spilled by nature to create once in a lifetime patterns and shades.....

And I held my breath, as you caught one....still....and held your own breath, while she held hers.....
waiting for you to know.....
butterflies are free....

Beautifully told and shared, Maithri, the magic of the butterfly....

And there are those of us that believe, that a butterfly dancing is the sign of hope, of peace, of love....

May your days be blessed by all

Peace~love our friends

singleton said...

Time to change
Big brother said
Take the big hand and
swing it back
60 minutes
Have another piece of cake
another beer
another nightmare
whatever gets you through the never ending night.....

I wrapped mine up in cellophane
and brought it home,
tucked it under the feather pillow,
the first slice of wedding cake...
good luck
better luck
any luck is better than none
on another day...

and now it's Monday,
blues and bills and broke before five thirty
and the only thing not spent
is that
silly
gifted hour....

And it's mine....

To do with as a I please

eric1313 said...

That one up there is called "Save Some Time, Spend Some Time"

Has to be...

Ho ho!


Has To Be
E1313

The round corner table was set,
candles burning at the primes
the northern flame called impulse--
a southern flame called enchamntment
an eastern flame hears the pulse;
a western flame laughs away all doubt.

Four faces finding each other
like friends lost and found again
in a moody shadow and light
pre-dawn playground scene.
eight eyes fluttering piercing
the Tuesday night special mist
highbeams on to keep the
midnight road in full view.

One heart beating the same blood
one mind, one track between them;
one word unspoken,but ready to be,
one night locked but waiting--
one more round and they will depart
four winds, four flames
with four intentions known;
two sets of searing passion
two destinations flown.

With each desire in another's hands
the four primes become two--
each tempered of one pure element.

The four fires will burn higher
before they fall low and burn out,
but that's the way the table's set.

The sin of the flesh must be obeyed
so says the creator
so says the four winds.

singleton said...

Four fires
seven hours
Two times
the clink!

singleton said...

"Child, wage your battles well"
she spittled when she spoke
rocked back and forth
wrapped in wrinkles
wise and lived,
warmed and old...

"I won't live this way!" green eyes
sudden schrapnel in the night....
"He makes me crazy, Gramma, crazy,
Smiling at her like that"

"Child, you is crazy
I tol your Mama so,
always fightin' wit angels
and lettin' your demons dance"

"I won't live this way" green eyes fuscia and on fire....
"Be a crazy ole bat like you, rockin' by yourself"

"Child, wage your battles well, at least your Nana's rockin'....."

singleton said...

"Nana, why you rock"?
whispered at my knees....

"I'm dancin' to the music,child,
keepin' myself company
holdin' on
listenin' to the butterflies"

"You can't hear butterflies, Nana....I'm not that dumb...."
green eyes smiling
whiling
twirling hair in lost fingertips
waiting....

"Child, you aint been listenin' then...."

eric1313 said...

You are prophetic.

I have to hit the store and pick up a pack of smokes, but check your mail. You'll see. I was talking about my grandma for a ramble.

singleton said...

I turned the heat on
because it's all of 70
or 68
and my skin is thin
and I like the way it
sounds
like fire wind
huffing and puffing
dust balls and cathair
from the ceiling vents...
and the way it smells
like Nana's house
hardwood floors
sudden skating rinks
in sock feet
and how it
reminds
me
that even though I worship the summer
the heat
the sun
the naked freedom,
I fell in love in the cold....
accidently and pale
late night coffee after day beers...

The winters are short in the south......

Princess Pointful said...

Tocking, talking-- love it.
I also adore the little snippets of daily life in the brackets... they connect these beautiful verses to something very real.

eric1313 said...

Thank you Princess.

You always get it, and look for the little efforts that we put into our work. I love it, too. The dialogue snippets do lend reality to the rest of the words.

And you popped by in time to see us really going at tit, back and forth. Always a lot of fun to create this way.

See you later. Peace out.

Sandy Kessler said...

funny I could see yopu 2 plain as day = except it wasn't

singleton said...

Sandy....
Oh, but it probably was .....
Clink! Sweet girl!