1 Aug 2007

modesto

“i come to lay caeser out
not to hip you to him”

modesto is glad his money ran out
finally there’s no pretext
no possibility of respect

the soup kitchen is modesto’s favourite place in the world

so now i’m eating pea soup
i’ve established that it’s hot enough.

mmm

i gotta say, it’s good
it’s been a while, but i’m getting back into soup – even broth

imagine that

“play me some beautiful dreamy music der, prince”
lord buckley says to his pianist, who promptly
plays some beautiful dreamy music, i think

but he uses it for a punchline, which is fine by me
since he is a comic, but i think it requires some visuals to get
cause i’m confused… he says “hey – heh heh…
subconscious mind, me lords, me ladies”

and the dreamy music continues

damn this pea soup is good
where the fuck have i been all these years?
i’m glad i’m back into soup

“what a gasser she was… oh lord, take me now!”

so beautiful, you wanna kill yourself, just culminate the whole deal, consummate consciousness, yeah, i dig, lord, i dig

god this pea soup is good
dayum, this is better than drugs
i guess this means i was hungry
and am now satiating

“three times i laid the kingly wig on him”
yeah, wish i was back in the early sixties, when buckley was a novelty
back when you could do drugs and not feel guilty
my god…

so lord buckley finishes his rap
and the dorky dick-cavett-esque interviewer cuts in, after a
genuine, nasal, but appreciative laugh:

“well that’s certainly the eloquence of willie the shake here, by that of lord buckley, and-

“you know why they called him willie the shake?” buckley interjects

“why?” the interviewer asks, in a kind of drawl, unconscious immediate influence, adorably distorted

“because he – SHOOK everybody!”

a snorting laugh by cavett

“they gave that cat five cents worth of pavement, a nickel’s worth of ink, he sat down and wrote him such a ___, when he got through ____ everybody got off, he was too tight a cat”

i can’t quite figure out all those words… quite a gulf of time, but thank your lucky stars, you lucky 20th century people, you’re recorded for posterity

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