April 16, 2014

I wish they didn't put mirrors behind the bar

Lady Pink, The Death of Graffiti, 1982,

The Attorney Arrives At His Office On April 16
-- klipschutz

Of course it would be dark,
the accounting firm next door,
on the ultimate day after the night before.
People hate lawyers and pity the bean counter.
People hate themselves and withhold pity from the poor.
Across my desk not one of you
can look me in the eye.
Straight-faced, I hear your flimsy alibi.
Take next door your shoebox of receipts.

You want miracles, try Lourdes.
No more can my dog play Hot Cross Buns
than a CPA scramble the code
and make pearls from a string of sham zeroes.
Mob fantasy stuff. The movies.
They eat alone at their desks,
rub their temples same as me.
We sell our eyesight by the hour.
In pursuit of the rock bottom line.

Are the crunchers at home sleeping in?
Up at dawn shredding wheat at loose ends?
Did they traipse off to Palm Springs together?
The way dollar signs pass through their hands
like a rope trick, you’d never
know from the burn marks on mine.
Do they tally each provident thrust?
As for me, I plead out every case.

Today may as well be tomorrow—
on anybody’s sabbath more laws than hearts get broken.
Enough get caught to keep me late tonight.

March 14, 2014

many times
we've been out drinking
and many times
we've shared our thoughts

* Nice Breeze's "Transparency" is featured in the Washington City Paper.

* WAMU's Bandwith blog includes Nice Breeze in its Brief Introduction to DC's garage rock scene.

February 10, 2014

Let the products sell themselves
fuck advertising, commercial psychology
psychological methods to sell should be destroyed

* A poem by klipschutz


“Active citizenship may be a drag, and interfere with
your real vocation as a Facebook addict, but what’s
the alternative? Unregulated corporations whose CEOs
bloviate about their libertarian principles even as they
buy up the news outlets and hire lobbyists to play
government like a pinball machine.”

Deconstructing Barry

Did the President draw a line,
and if so, in what hue?

Was the sand wet or dry?
Were there bikinis? (¡Más!)

Did oil slime the beach?
(Pancake batfish, D.O.A.)

Red? Again?
Think thin, think blue.

Or maybe he did no such thing,
preferring to share with us

a ‘teachable moment’
so we can draw one for ourselves

if that’s not too much to ask
(sounded good when JFK said it).

Health Care Reform & Other Sorrows

There are sexier topics,
like robots who that give blow jobs,

and big fun to be had
courtesy of digital devices:

Check out Sister Rosetta Tharpe.

Pizza. Ordered. Coming to my door.

There are better bills by far
that never could have passed,

unless you replace Congress,
voted in by clones of you

—but that could backfire
if they make you share one ballot,

so maybe best replace
the whole Supreme Court too.

(And now, Steve Van Zandt is disappointed.)
That can happen, once you’ve been married

with Little Richard officiating, Percy Sledge singing
“When A Man Loves A Woman” at the ceremony

and Bruce Springsteen as best man.
Naturally, Steve is hard to please.)

“I have seen the enemy and he is us.”
A cartoon character said that.

“Barack Obama is better than we deserve.”
I said that. (cf., Dylan, reaching back)

The Keystone XL Pipeline? A bad solution
to our clown-size carbon footprint.

January 17, 2014

and the time will come
when you add up the numbers

Rosamond Purcell, Untitled, 2000

* Two new Nice Breeze recordings: I'm No Joan of Arc & New Barflies can be heard here.

* "Information is not knowledge. Knowledge is not wisdom. Wisdom is not truth. Truth is not beauty. Beauty is not love. Love is not music. Music is THE BEST..." --Frank Zappa

January 12, 2014

the sun highlights the lack in each

John Divola, As Far as I Could Get: 10 Seconds, 1996

A poem by Klipschutz:

“the sports page makes the news”

A-Rod, A-Rod, A-Rod, say it isn’t isn’t so.
Cross your fingers if you have to, but Say it!
Do it with your game face on, A-Bro!

I wouldn’t know you from A-Dam
or Bam-Bam or C-Span
but I love you for your flaws,
in that fecklessly American way.
Didn’t you date the Mother of God?
Maybe she can help!

Why do people hate you
just because you’re a prick?
Whatever they throw, it won’t stick!
Unless you already admitted everything.

I wish I could help, and say so knowing
that I can’t, and don’t know the score,
except that you’re not J-Lo or K-Fed,
or A. Alvarez, or even A.A. Milne.
But I don’t mean to be unsympathetic.

To tell the truth, maybe I do.
I’ll work with my therapist on that,
’cause A-Man, maybe a man with a bat
circling the bases and tipping his hat
is the only thing in the world that’s really true.

It might help to pay it forward,
and buy my book, A-God,
to give me some skin in the game!
For eighteen bones (nothing to you),
I could mount a Save The-Rod campaign.

Like the guy they buried alive said: Think outside the box.
(And when you crack my book, wear your lucky socks!)

I apologize for not having The Facts,
there’s simply too much to keep up with,
between updating my to-do list,
picking a side in Egypt,
changing my name to K-Lip,
my rematch with The ABC of Reading,
and telling the Dickman brothers apart and all.

December 31, 2013

remember all the people
who were heroes to ya
and remember all the people
you deceived

Christa Parravani, Kiss, 2003

Seen You Around
-- Hal Sirowitz

Each time I've come to this bar,
she said, I've seen you here.
You look like you come here often.
You must be having trouble finding
a steady girlfriend. I hope you
don't think I'm being critical.
I can't find a partner either.
I go to different bars, so it isn't as obvious.

At the Lions Head
-- David Markson

I scowl at the bar
And confront a midnight revelation:
In ten years
I have contributed thirty thousand, cash,
to the fiscal well-being
of this saloon.

If I still wake, mornings, to
Is there a refund?

-- New Year's Eve, by the cut ups.

Happy New Year!!

December 24, 2013

always use the old sense of the word

Michal Rovner, Untitled, 1990

Christmas Morning Without Presents: The Depression, Granite City, Illinois
-- Ellery Akers

It is 1929. The moon falls on the floor,
the pantry is empty, beans hardening like rocks in the cans.
No, you did not expect this.
The same cracked wall with its stains,
odor of your mother's cleaning fluid,
curtains with their clean hems,
blowing in and out.
You touch the bones and lumps of the chair,
the broken wireless with its dial, you pick up a spoon,
and it's cold. A clock ticks. The chipped plates
fill up with the moon.
You look back at the window,
tubes and vats of the factories
quiet for once.
The garbage truck rolls up the alley,
the bristles of the streetcleaner's brush rasp on the pavement.
Your hand closes on the doorknob, quietly.
You begin to carry the stone of your childhood:
The moon. The empty room. It will be yours.

* Excerpts from Truman Capote's A Christmas Memory.

December 6, 2013

it's a city full of animals, a city full of thieves
a city full of lovers trying hard to make believe

Alex Goldschmidt, Man and His Paper, 2009

Bargain Hunt
-- Ron Padgett

for Tessie

Suppose you found a bargain so incredible
you stood there stunned for a moment
unable to believe that this thing could be
for sale at such a low price: that is what happens
when you are born, and as the years go by
the price goes up and up until, near the end
of your life, it is so high that you lie there
stunned forever.

Ah, Humanity
-- Klipschutz

Throat cancer is not remotely funny,
but the situation is hilarious:

One of Our Finest Actors, also a notable producer
and all around Hollywood Royalty, having long ago
outdistanced any taint of nepotism for being the son
of an actor even more famous than himself,
is living separately from his second wife,

One of Our Finest Actresses, a world class beauty
twenty five years his junior, and their two children,
though it is said he rents near them in Manhattan
and comes over every morning to make pancakes
for the kiddies and their mother.

“Sources say” she cannot forgive his statements
that the cancer he recently fought to a draw
may have been caused by oral sex.

Life itself is a Reality Show. CUT TO COMMERCIAL---—

December 3, 2013

Promise me
You will always be
Too awake to be famous
Too wired to be safe

David Malek, Blue Lozenge (Erik Roehmer), 2013

"Malek also makes canny use of quasi-subliminal iconographic motifs culled from various ancient and contemporary sources. Some of his paintings, which appear at first glance to be Op art–esque abstractions, use images directly from pop culture:... The works’ titles act as touchstones for interpretation: Blue Lozenge (Eric Roehmer) is an homage to the French filmmaker’s production company Les Films du losange (“Lozenge Films”) and straightforwardly appropriates its blue diamond-shaped logo..." -- Ian Wallace

* Nice Breeze performs with ARU and Teething Veils at Velvet Lounge Monday December 9, 2013.

* From a 1974 interview of Leonard Cohen:

J.S. - When you talk about people, do you see individual faces, or is it a concept of the masses?

L.C. - People are a complex of everyday heroes, at least that's what I feel. There are millions of faces and personalities, but all together they form a people. Then, within each group, there emerges a value system that makes some into leaders and others into followers, that makes some into celebrities, and others into unknown people. All of them are heroes, but each with a different destiny.
J.S. - With this tour, and with the bad treatment you have received from the English and American critics, how are you feeling about this international exposure?

L.C. - I don't consider myself a great singer. I just play the guitar and interpret my lyrics. I do what I do because I have a need to do it, to express what I know, and to show people what I do. It's true that this tour has had some rough moments, especially in the U.S. and England, but the unpleasant times have not come from the public, just from the critics, and I really don't pay attention to critics. Critics view things with a certain coldness, they focus on the sound, whether it's good or bad, whether one plays the guitar well, on whether there is a large audience, and sometimes they can't see real success, because they don't look into the soul of the audience nor into the soul of the singer. I've seen the people applauding from their hearts, and that is what is truly important for me. And that's the way it was today, here in Barcelona, so this tour, in my opinion, has gone well indeed. I am content, happy.
.S. - Nonetheless, "Lover, Lover, Lover" is dedicated to your "brothers" in the Arab-Israeli war, and besides, you were there, singing for them. This indicates you're taking a side, and in a way, fighting for it.

L.C. - Personal process is one thing, it's blood, it's the identification one feels with their roots and their origins. The militarism I practice as a person and a writer is another thing.

J.S. - But you worry about war, and for that reason it would be logical that you would be concerned about both sides.

L.C. - I don't want to talk about war.

J.S. - Do you feel commercialized when a million copies of your albums are sold?

L.C. - That isn't the problem, that feeling doesn't happen at the time a million albums are sold, it happens afterwards, when I accept the fact that my songs are being recorded and entered into the commercial games. I feel neither guilty nor happy, but I could add that the system uses me as much as I use it, so we would have to speak in terms of collaboration. What concerns me is reaching the people, so I have to submit to the rules of the game, because this system is the only means I have, to do what I have to do.

* "Power does not corrupt men. Fools, however, if they get into a position of power, corrupt power." -- George Bernard Shaw

November 27, 2013

for the dreams of the weedking we all sing

Stephen Miles, William Burroughs, after dinner joint

A Thanksgiving Prayer
-- by William Burroughs

Thanks for the wild turkey and
the passenger pigeons, destined
to be shit out through wholesome
American guts.

Thanks for a continent to despoil
and poison.

Thanks for Indians to provide a
modicum of challenge and

Thanks for vast herds of bison to
kill and skin leaving the
carcasses to rot.

Thanks for bounties on wolves
and coyotes.

Thanks for the American dream,
To vulgarize and to falsify until
the bare lies shine through.

Thanks for the KKK.

For nigger-killin' lawmen,
feelin' their notches.

For decent church-goin' women,
with their mean, pinched, bitter,
evil faces.

Thanks for "Kill a Queer for
Christ" stickers.

Thanks for laboratory AIDS.

Thanks for Prohibition and the
war against drugs.

Thanks for a country where
nobody's allowed to mind the
own business.

Thanks for a nation of finks.

Yes, thanks for all the
memories-- all right let's see
your arms!

You always were a headache and
you always were a bore.

Thanks for the last and greatest
betrayal of the last and greatest
of human dreams.