THINGS THAT ROLL
OFF THE ROOF
Now isn't the time for recollecting
the oasis, fat pants, in front of the
quite visceral TV. The shroud of
doom is on everyone's lips, but
only because of a helicopter blip;
TV time and lemonade rhyme,
the football millions chime.
-
I opened a book today, and a note
fell out; one I'd written to myself
in 1973. It was about directions to
Ithaca and an artist guy named
Vito Acconci. I barely remembered
him, and then I did. I'm not sure
if he's still alive or not.
-
It was all about that time and place.
NYC, Sonnabend gallery, as I also
remember, he built a platform you
walked over while he masturbated
underneath. Yeah, that was Art, if
you can believe it. Like Patti Smith
rolling on about her job in that early
recording 'Piss Factory.' What in
the world was anyone thinking.
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