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Poetry Magnum Opus

Hammersmith Blues (a few bad words)


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Friday afternoon feels a helluva lot

like Monday morning, Bubba, down here

where we slouch around. The band is good,

but we've only played a handful of gigs

since July. Now it is September.

The alcohol intake is excessively impressive,

and we've written all of one new song:

It goes, it goes ... never mind, it's total crap.

The lead singer is out of his mind on drugs,

trying to sleep with the keyboard player's girl.

She's willing, I think, but he can't perform.

Andy, the keyboard genius, is ready to quit.

Idiot bitch. Pride. Fed up. Dammit, so am I!

Hanging around with these guys is like ...

like drowning in molasses, or lukewarm porrige.

We had one good song, I'm sure you heard it.

Top of the Pops, Number 14 in the USA.

We were so, soooo fuckin good!

Still are, in fact, tight and bluesy.

The fame thing has been kicking us in,

blasting us out of the water. Last time

I drank a glass of water was in December.

We're into vodka limes and expensive wines.

Every now and then I meet a black musician,

one of those guys from the old days,

working as a doorman or a taxi driver,

and I want to fall down and kiss his shoes.

He takes me to a club, we play all night.

I mean, who the hell needs drugs?

I just love what I'm doing, man,

can't stand the people I'm doing it with.

Drown your sorrows in drink, by all means, but the real sorrows can swim

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:-8) great narrative work as usual, nicely done.


"Unbearable, isn't it? The suffering of strangers, the agony of friends.

There is a secret song at the center of the world, Joey, and its sound is like razors through flesh."


"I don't believe you."


"Oh come, you can hear its faint echo right now. I'm here to turn up the volume.

To press the stinking face of humanity into the dark blood of its own secret heart."

"There's a starving beast inside my chest
playing with me until he's bored
Then, slowly burying his tusks in my flesh
crawling his way out he rips open old wounds

When I reach for the knife placed on the bedside table
its blade reflects my determined face
to plant it in my chest
and carve a hole so deep it snaps my veins

Hollow me out, I want to feel empty"
-- "Being Able To Feel Nothing" by Oathbreaker


"Sky turns to a deeper grey

the sun fades by the moon

hell's come from the distant hills

tortures dreams of the doomed

and they pray, yet they prey

and they pray, still they prey"
-- "Still They Prey" by Cough


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Frank E Gibbard

Have to comment on this Hammersmith being a familiar stamping ground. Relates in a credibility sense for me Bren.

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Larsen M. Callirhoe

i had the tape of spinal tap and the cd of spinal tap. of i kknew it would be priceless now i would have kept it instead of throwing it away. i threw around ten heqvy metal cds in the trash because i liked nothing on them. i threw away iron maiden's 666 cd, i threw away skid row's b side cdand slave to the grind cd tho i kept therefirst album titled skid row , the rest of the cd's i don't remember. i should of kept them all. as i get older i love and appreciate hard rock but metal not as much. i think it has to do with i can't mosh anumore.





Larsen M. Callirhoe

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