December 16, 2014

One hundred years from this day
Will the people still feel this way



Frederic Edwin Church, Iceberg, 1861

The Coming of Light
-- Mark Strand

Even this late it happens:
the coming of love, the coming of light.
You wake and the candles are lit as if by themselves,
stars gather, dreams pour into your pillows,
sending up warm bouquets of air.
Even this late the bones of the body shine
and tomorrow's dust flares into breath.


Night Thought
-- Bill Knott

Compared to one's normal clothes, pajamas
are just as caricature as the dreams
they bare: farce-skins, facades, unserious
soft versions of the mode diem, they seem
to have come from a posthumousness;
floppy statues of ourselves, slack seams
of death. Their form mimics the decay
that will fit us so comfortably someday.


Questions and Answers
-- Nicanor Parra

do you believe it would be worth the trouble
to kill god
to see if that would straighten out the world?

--of course it would be

would it be worth the trouble
to risk your life
for an idea that might be false?

--of course it would be

I ask you now if it would be
worth the trouble to eat crab meat
worth the trouble to raise children
who will turn against
their elders?

--obviously yes
no, its worth the trouble

I ask you now if it would be worth
the trouble to play a record
the trouble to read a tree
the trouble to plant a book
if everything disappears
if nothing lasts?

--maybe it wouldn't be

don't cry

--I'm laughing

don't get born

--I'm dying

December 3, 2014

no kind of love is better than others


Carl Andre, Am Am Not Am Not Willing, 1972

Untitled
-- Grace Paley

Life is as risky
as it is branchy

treetop and twigtip
are only the beginning

then comes the westwind to lean
and the northwind to turn

then the sunshine implores
and up all of us go

we are like any
greengrowing machinery

riding the daylight route
to darkness


Notebook
-- Patti Smith

I keep trying to figure out what it means
to be american. When I look in myself
I see arabia, venus, nineteenth-century
french but I can't recognize what
makes me american. I think about
Robert Frank's photographs -- broke down
jukeboxes in gallup, new mexico...
swaying hips and spurs...ponytails and
syphilitic cowpokes. I think about a
red, white and blue rag I wrap around
my pillow. Maybe it's nothing material
maybe it's just being free.

Freedom is a waterfall, is pacing
linoleum till dawn, is the right to
write the wrong words, and I done
plenty of that...


We Evolve
-- Charles Bukowski

at first it seems like fucking is the big thing,
then after that -- social consciousness,
then intellectual accomplishment,
and then after that
some fall into religion
others into the arts.
after that begins the gathering of money
and after the gathering of money
the stage where we pretend that
money doesn't matter.
then it's health and hobbies,
travel, and finally just sitting around
thinking vaguely of vague things,
rooting in gardens
hating flies, noise, bad weather, snails,
rudeness, the unexpected, new neighbors,
old friends, drunks, smoking, fucking,
singing, dancing, upstarts,
the postman and weeds.
it gives one the fidgets: waiting on
death.

November 26, 2014

I get a buzz from being cold and wet
The pleasure seems to balance out the pain



William Burroughs, After Dinner Joint, by Stephen Miles

"Political conflicts are merely surfaced manifestations. If conflicts arise you may be sure that certain powers intend to keep this conflict under operation since they hope to profit from the situation. To concern yourself with surface political conflicts is to make the mistake of the bull in the ring, you are charging the cloth. That is what politics is for, to teach you the cloth. Just as the bullfighter teaches the bull, teaches him to follow, obey the cloth." -- William S. Burroughs

A Thanksgiving Prayer
-- William S. 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 danger.

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 their 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.

October 7, 2014

all I know is that the waves keep rollin' in




* Also, Nice Breeze will be playing Church Night November 12, 2014, also at Wonderland Ballroom

July 12, 2014

the story begins
I did not know who she was
and the story ends
I did not know who she was


June 18, 2014

I was making it up
but no one was buying
I was the first big weekend
of the summertime




* Nice Breeze song Transparency played during this thoughtful Pilot Waves podcast/interview of Washington City Paper arts editor Christina Cauterucci.

April 29, 2014

dream Francisco Goya
dream Vincent Van Gogh
dream Gerhart Richter
don't dream Billy Joel



Nice Breeze May Performances:

Arlington, Virginia (Facebook Invite)



Brooklyn, New York (Facebook Invite)



WDC (Facebook Invite)

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

from SECOND TERM BLUES

“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.”
-Nostradamus


1.
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).

2.
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.