THE ANGER SEED
(I Think To Myself)
They all have their Klaus Voormann moments,
the rattlers, the singers, the killers, the dingers.
Imagination flies its stringed loops all over this sky.
I am watching from a distance, as two fellows emerge:
they are eating fire, blowing down the black smoke
between their flaming lips. I shoulder no burden that
would ever equal this (I think to myself). Then, just
aside, two swaggering Lebanese elephant handlers
enter from beyond the curtain, leading three broad
elephants swaying. One has a saddle, upon which sits,
nearly naked, a quite voluptuous woman. She stretches
outward with her arms and - of course, of course, one
sees the shape of her breasts. Guaranteed to get a rise,
the move awes the small tented crowd. This audience
erupts. I think again, to myself, 'where am I?'
-
I answer to no one; but I answer to you -
I am in Swinton Station, Indiana, at the yearly state fair,
where - in order to see these things - the county farmers
come far and wide, witnessing this fleshy cavalcade
behind the tented doors, as if it were some 1930's
sexy sideshow today. This is incredible, and how
can it be? I think to myself - these are the very same
men who shoulder rifles and bear grudges like I
carry pennies. Watch out, therefore, the unsatisfied
urge : the urge to lust and violence, one unfulfilled
leading to the other enacted. All those crazy
Summer gunmen, going home to take
out the family.
(I Think To Myself)
They all have their Klaus Voormann moments,
the rattlers, the singers, the killers, the dingers.
Imagination flies its stringed loops all over this sky.
I am watching from a distance, as two fellows emerge:
they are eating fire, blowing down the black smoke
between their flaming lips. I shoulder no burden that
would ever equal this (I think to myself). Then, just
aside, two swaggering Lebanese elephant handlers
enter from beyond the curtain, leading three broad
elephants swaying. One has a saddle, upon which sits,
nearly naked, a quite voluptuous woman. She stretches
outward with her arms and - of course, of course, one
sees the shape of her breasts. Guaranteed to get a rise,
the move awes the small tented crowd. This audience
erupts. I think again, to myself, 'where am I?'
-
I answer to no one; but I answer to you -
I am in Swinton Station, Indiana, at the yearly state fair,
where - in order to see these things - the county farmers
come far and wide, witnessing this fleshy cavalcade
behind the tented doors, as if it were some 1930's
sexy sideshow today. This is incredible, and how
can it be? I think to myself - these are the very same
men who shoulder rifles and bear grudges like I
carry pennies. Watch out, therefore, the unsatisfied
urge : the urge to lust and violence, one unfulfilled
leading to the other enacted. All those crazy
Summer gunmen, going home to take
out the family.
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