I am grateful for: “Accordion Love…”

“my heart on my sleeve” (from the Accordion Love notebook) by K.J.Legry

She tells him,

The MINDFULNESS People 

work with intention.  They don’t overflow

their gobs with a whole lotta yatta yatta

or mutha f*ckers

‘cuz a tight-ass bicycle boy in spandex doesn’t wear yoga pants and ALL YOU experts know it.”

She tells him,

The POSITIVE SELF TALKERS

don’t look on the bright side;

they look on the dark side and navigate the byways of their tunnel vision.

They don’t use words to communicate;

they use them to silence themselves

and that’s how they get THERE

from HERE…”

“the Sky is Falling” (from the Accordion Love notebook) by K.J. Legry

She tells him, 

The COIN TOSSERS

are the only ones who can hear

where you are still young, throwing heads

or tails into her well

to make your wish instead of your decision.

You take this for Granted three times:

the first time you vomit,

the second time you forgive,

and the third time you are Form and Function.”

“enunciation” (from the Accordion Love notebook) by K.J.Legry

She tells him,

The LOVE SPATTERS

abandoning everything

for passion

and then it was too careful

for compassion

until finally it was war

and now I’m dying…

to do it all again.

“the key to my heart” (from the Accordion Love notebook) by K.J.Legry

She tells him,

The COSMIC MESSAGE

from the M.C. Zen master-rama-rama-Lama-say-what-you-please-but-don’t-be-sassin’-my-bodhisatva-mama

is that, “All Passion Leads to Suffering.

It’s in that nutshell for YOU,

Yes YOU,

to crack.

When asked, the Dali Lama said, ‘Aw heck yeah a woman can be the next Buddha, but she’s gonna have to be a hottie.’  

He smiled big,

scanned the starstruck hippies and student monks who shared sudden expressions of shock and hostility

and he chuckled before he said, ‘So take care of yer nut sacks fellas!’

“dragon lady” (from the Accordion Love notebook) by K.J. Legry

She tells him,

The SIGN HANGER

says, “That’s what it is~ when you’re in attendance.  Way you tend to things.  That’s how you inhabit your own world, NOT mine baby…”  

and then he sprays his tag,

his graffiti barely legible

simply put: “Love Accordingly.”

the Accordion Love notebook by K.J. Legry, October 2017

***

The Mynabirds “Ways of Looking” (music audio) is being posted here for NO COMMERCIAL PURPOSES.

The Mynabirds “Ways of Looking” LYRICS:

You  give me all your loving, and I’ll give you all of mine
We can wash out all the red flags
And then draw the line
If we’re painted into the corner we’ll wait for it to dry
We can take our time

I lost my head in an avalanche
The world turned over when I least expected
Buried me under my great plans;
Why can’t it ever be easy?

And then all the sparrows and the cornets
They played their own version of “Taps”
Just when it seemed about hopeless
You counted one to ten
There are so many ways of looking
Catch your breath
It can be easy, if you just
Let it

I lose my sense at the sight of you
The effortless way you take the worst news

You said you can move mountains with your point of view
It doesn’t have to be so hard
And then all the sparrows and the cornets
They started in with the same old set
Before we guessed what it meant
We counted one to ten
There are so many ways of looking
Catch your breath
It can be easy, if you just
Let it

You give me all your loving and I’ll give you all of mine
We can wash out all the red flags and then draw the line
If we’re painted into the corner we’ll wait for it to dry
Even if it takes about all night
beause I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather
Spend my time.

Ways Of Looking · The Mynabirds What We Lose In The Fire We Gain In The Flood ℗ 2010 Saddle Creek, Music Publisher: Origami Music (ASCAP)

“Barometor Frog” (cover for the Accordion Love notebook) by K.J. Legry
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I am grateful for: “Sleep like your bed’s on fire…”

“Naked Lady Say” (fortune cookie inserts) by K.J. Legry

Naked Lady Say:

You still love those primal stirrings 

Jeopardy like strings

thin and pulling;

but allow that One perfect smile in

and be amazed

be pure

be you.

The blessing is affordable…

heart chakra mobile by K.J. Legry

There… where rain forest

branches

towering hundreds of feet 

up

in

air

producing soil~ rich

in nutrients,

Springing species

of orchid and fern

and how many birds fed,

and the light…

that you see when you break

through to SKY…

It’s YOU.

There is the resonance of birthdays

unresolved goodbyes.

There is a siren nearing

Division,

the tight sucking whistles

of starlings

the two-thump metal-clunk of tires

rolling over an uneven pothole lid,

crows gossiping pole

to pole

faint up the hill

to your ear

and you’re the only one hearing the rattle

of walnuts in rain gutters

the flapping wings

to evergreens waving enormous orange cones.

You are the music of sharks

evolving;

what happens when blood becomes sound.

***

The Holly Miranda “Sleep On Fire” (music Audio) is being posted here for NO COMMERCIAL PURPOSES.

Holly Miranda “Sleep On Fire” LYRICS:

Love you go down smooth
I am crushing you
I can barely move
With no feet on the ground
A head full of clouds
But I don’t care

There’s no place
I want to wake up
But beside you
And all your million billion
Tiny little kisses all fill me up
Make me shiny

And sleep like your bed’s on fire
Sleep like your bed’s on fire
Cause it just
Might be

I am grateful for: “those who speak my tongue…”

Sow what 

U got sum biblical reference to love being patient and kind for me?  

i wasn’t particularly patient.  i mean i couldn’t really call it that, but i think handling the overwhelming amount of frustration had a certain amount of…

um…

buoyancy (?) to it

when i wasn’t dragging my teeth across my wrists

and being kind enough to live with it.

I like how when i met you, you shared a poem about cowards and then proceeded to act like one;

and when you forgot the words to Amazing Grace,

you kept falling down which made you think of loose gravel and ice

so you demanded a re-write instead of just practicing.

You said, if you lied

on the ground like when opossums play dead, you could close your eyes and still see the sky

and then you said, “Trust Me.”

***

The Kiran Ahluwalia “Hayat” (music video) is being posted here for NO COMMERCIAL PURPOSES.

Kiran Ahluwalia Hayat” LYRICS:

English Translation:
Beeti hee jayai apnee hee saye mai hayat oh hayat
Khainchtee hee jayai lataktee aahain hayat oh hayatBe hisab battai hai hum bazam hum zubaan guftgu jordu melai koi kab kahan
Panahgeer rahi hu teree hayat oh hayatBezaar cut rahee hai e dostana izhaar e khayal e jane e jana
Pehli si aahe pehla phasanaa hayat oh hayat
Life drifts in its own shadow.
Dragging along lounging sighs, life o life.Those who speak my tongue are unevenly scattered.
Still, I collect conversations. I may run into someone.
I’ve been your refugee, life o life.It’s wasting away, chasing ideas of love, my friend.
Those first sighs, that first story, life o life.

I am grateful for: “Tomboys…”

Danny Boy says, “I was truly moved by her, when she said to me, ‘Heck yeah, I’m a functioning illiterate Doc Fancy Suit.  What Makes YOU think I wanna learn how to feel the way you do?  I’m not gonna read those books!  Them teachers think I can’t read, but I can read.  I been reading as long as I can remember, but I’m not telling any of them teachers at school I can do it.  If they know I can read, they’ll make me read their books.”

Dickey Boy asks, “Well, so you encountered an actual resistance to facts and information, huh Danny Boy?  So then what do you do?  How do you teach?”
Danny Boy says, “Dickey Boy, that’s an excellent question and I’m glad you asked me about it;  because I want to impress upon you, and I do not mean this in any kind of sentimental way, you know, like how one is supposed to feign humility, but you see… it really was this young woman who was teaching me and not the other way around.”
Dickey Boy nods and he says, “Uh, huh.  Uh, huh.  Okay and so how do you feel about parents or teachers who say to their children and students, ‘Stop reading those comic books…’?”
Danny Boy says, “Well Dickey Boy, if a boy wants to read a Playboy Magazine he should read what interests him, that’s what I’d tell them.  Because any boy who hasn’t read a Playboy Magazine isn’t in the world yet.”
Dickey Boy laughs.  “Heh, heh… I guess that’s true!”
Danny Boy says, “It’s true.  It’s true, Dickey Boy.  And what’s more, we need to not give books to kids that tell them how to be like us.  We should give them books to read that reflect who they are so we can help them become them, not us.”
Dickey Boy asks, “Oh… so does that mean writing one bad short story is better than reading one well written novel?”
Danny Boy says, “Well Dickey Boy, not really, but there is a kernel of truth at least to what you are suggesting.”
Dickey Boy asks, “I mean do you think of reading as an idle activity in comparison to, oh say taking a walk?  That the physical experience of being in the world is more beneficial than reading about taking a walk?”
Danny Boy says, “Well yes and no Dickey Boy.  It’s our memories that set us apart from the other animals.  It’s our memories that make our animal unique.  And we capture those memories in books.  But of course, the physical experience of life is going to inform those books and this is where we discover our shared humanity.  That’s why I’m saying this student taught me more than I taught her.  She made me a better listener.  And she wasn’t wrong.  She knew who was telling her to be more white.  Who had the money.  She wanted the money; she just didn’t want the bullshit that came with it.”
Dickey Boy nods.  “What was the bullshit Danny Boy, that came with it?”
Danny Boy says, “In those books nobody believed a black girl would grow up to be a doctor.  It’s like how sometimes on airplanes when a passenger is having a medical problem and the white stewardess asks if there is a doctor on board and a proficient black doctor steps forward, but then the stewardess looks her up and down and hesitates.  Literally this passenger’s life is on the line and the stewardess asks for her credentials, only then to reject her for the white man who says he too is a doctor, but without asking to see his credentials.”
Dickey Boy nods.  “Wow.  Yeah.  I see what you mean Danny Boy.  I wouldn’t want to read those books either and I have been!”
Danny Boy laughs.  “Well there you are.”
Dickey Boy chuckles.  “Indeed.  Indeed.”  He says and he turns to the Elephant Man and asks, “So, what do you think about all of this?”
Elephant Man says, “Well, it’s true people laugh when I tell them I talk to the elephants and they talk to me and we have a true connection.”
Dickey Boy and Danny Boy laugh.
Elephant Man smiles like a shy but curious little boy.  He says, “They are a little mysterious the way they scatter and hide their bones all around the jungle.  They have a real sense of death.  And they are an extremely private group.”
Dickey Boy says, “Wait, you mean they told you that the elephant graveyard isn’t real?”
Elephant Man says, “That’s right Dickey Boy.  They are mums the word on why they do what they do, scattering and hiding the bones, but the elephant graveyard is a fantasy.”
Dickey Boy says, “That’s amazing.  You have a real way with them.”
Elephant Man says, “Well, that’s because I am an elephant.”
Dickey Boy and Danny Boy laugh.
Danny Boy leans over to pat Elephant Man’s knee.  He says, “You know what?  I believe you.”
Elephant Man smiles like a shy but curious little boy.  He says, “Do you want to know what the dumbest of the big animals is?”
Dickey Boy says, “Sure do.”
Elephant Man says, “The Rhino. He’s so transparent, you know, you can see his mind ticking… before he impulsively charges a bush.  For no reason at all he just goes off and attacks a bush!  And then he’ll actually throw himself onto his back like he’s having a tizzy fit.  A rhino boxes his own shadow and loses every time.”
Dickey Boy and Danny Boy laugh.
Dickey Boy says, “Well maybe the rhinos are harboring deep feelings against the Chinese.  Maybe it’s post traumatic stress because after all, the Chinese have been hunting them and sawing off their horns to grind them into what has been proven as false ‘medicine’ and so maybe the rhino species is energetically messed up now because of that long brutal history.”
Elephant Man appears pensive.  He says, “That’s deep.  I never would have thought of that.  Maybe you’re right Dickey Boy.”
Danny Boy says to Dickey Boy, “I believe it.  And who says we can’t use television to teach the children?  When my daughter was six years old she got bored with Sesame Street.  She knew when it became condescending to her.  She knew when she could out smart them and she made her own choice to move on.”
Dickey Boy says, “Well Danny Boy, I’m not going to argue with you there!”
Danny Boy and Dickey Boy share a laugh and Elephant Man smiles like a shy and curious little boy.
Danny Boy says, “You know that rhino-Chinese analogy is pretty much how my student explained Woody Allen to me.  She said Woody is a thief.  She said don’t trust that mutha fuckin’ Jew ‘cuz he like all them Jews.  He gonna rob everyone and make ’em pay to watch him screw his adopted daughter.’ “
Dickey Boy laughs.  “Wow!  I never thought of the movie biz as so all about Holly-Woodies before.  Your student had a point, didn’t she?”
Danny Boy nods.  “I couldn’t argue.  I wouldn’t argue.  There was nothing to argue.”
Elephant Man nods.  “Maybe rhinos aren’t dumb.  I never considered the body language as anything other than unproductive rage.  But it’s a signal to us.  Perhaps it’s their recorded memory.  Maybe they role model this to condition and steel and submit themselves for what the future holds.”
Danny Boy says, “I believe you’re on to something there, Elephant Man.”
Dickey Boy says to Danny Boy, “Which isn’t to say there is no hope?”
Danny Boy says, “Oh, no… of course there is hope.  Yes there is hope.  My student who didn’t want to read the books, went to college to become a nurse, and then she ended up a doctor.  People say to me, you must be so proud and gratified because she wouldn’t have done that if she hadn’t met me, but that’s not true.  She did that work by herself.  She did that for herself.  And she taught me how she could and would do it.  But me?  As a white man?  I didn’t have to sacrifice a thing.  I just had to listen and then I got to write a book about her and I got on television for it.  She gave me that.”
***
The Princess Nokia “Tomboy” (music video) is being posted here for No Commercial Purposes.  Directed by Milah Libin, Cinematography by Travis Libin, Produced by @7heSAINT
Princess Nokia “Tomboy” LYRICS:
Who that is, ho?
That girl is a tomboy!
That girl is a tomboy!That girl is a tomboy!With my little titties and my phat belly
I could take your man if you finna let me
It’s a guarantee that he won’t forget me
My body little, my soul is heavy
My little titties be bookin’ cities all around the world
They be fucking wit’ me
I’m a Calvin Klein model, come and get me
Sip the up, don’t be fucking with me
My little titties are so itty bitty
I go locomotive, chitty chitty, bang bang
Gold hoops and that name chain
Timb boots and like, four rings
Missy Elliott, can’t stand the rain
You lames playing the same games
Little titties, I’m so damn pretty
Staircase and a crack philly
Little titties and a fat kitty
Big pants and some stuffed shoes
Pow-pow-pow, Blue’s Clues
(Pow pow pow! Pow pow!)With my little titties and my phat belly
My little titties and my phat belly
My little titties and my phat belly
(That girl is a tomboy)
My little titties and my phat belly
My little titties and my phat belly
My little titties and my phat belly
(That girl is a tomboy)
My little titties and my phat belly
(My little titties and my phat belly
My little titties and my phat belly)
That girl is a tomboy
That girl is a tomboy
That girl is a tomboy
Who that is, ho?
That girl is a tomboy!
That girl is a tomboy!
That girl is a tomboy!Who that?
Who that?
Who that?
Princess Nokia, Baby Phat
I be where the ladies at
Who know how to shake it fast
We gon’ spit that brazy track
You know that I’ll take it back
I’m spitting the illest math
Yeah, ho!Who that?
Who that?
Who that?
Princess Nokia, make it clap
She with it to set it back
And give ya the fire track
Now watch what gon’ happen nextWho that up in the North?
Dennis Rodman up court
When I step up in the function it’s a party, of course
I’m having fun with my friends
And I don’t want it to end
And if you finna blow my high then I’ma punch you againWith my little titties and my phat belly
My little titties and my phat belly
My little titties and my phat belly
(That girl is a tomboy)
My little titties and my phat belly
My little titties and my phat belly
My little titties and my phat belly
(That girl is a tomboy)
My little titties and my phat belly
(My little titties and my phat belly
My little titties and my phat belly)
That girl is a tomboy
That girl is a tomboy
That girl is a tomboy
Who that is, ho?
That girl is a tomboy!
That girl is a tomboy!
That girl is a tomboy!
Yeah, ho!He so in love
He think it’s a spell
This love is too magic and he cannot tell
He fuck with my bruja, my pussy and spell
My toto is special, got locks like a jail
It’s Polo, it’s Tommy, it’s Mecca, it’s Nauti
I’m finna sit back and just sip on Bacardi
You come to my party
You gon’ meet my army
A room full of girls and we acting real rowdy

I am grateful for: “indignant Love…”

“two-faced” (mixed media) by K. J. Legry

“The Muppets raped Kurt.” Widow Love screeches.  Her face is wide and her bright red mouth wider… and she screeches again incoherently, swaying and slogging around the stage in her stained slip.  Mascara collects under her eye like a painted football player, streaks running not from crying so much as sweating.  But she uses this effect to her advantage and addresses her audience like she’s crying.  “I’m indignant!” Love screeches.

 
“What’s a matter?”  Fozzie Bear asks and tips his fedora.  He says, “Waacka, Waacka, Waacka.”
 
Love screams curdling and incoherent.  She stomps around in what were once fuzzy slippers and now look like greasy matted roadkill.  “Sacrilege!”  she howls, “How DARE you bastardize him!”
 
“Uh, Ms. Wuv~ Aw you cuh-went-wee on dwugs?”  Asks Baba Wawa.  She is pressed against the stage in her fitted red blazer and gold button earrings.  She lifts her microphone upwards held steady as bait awaiting Love’s giant gaping mouth.
 
Love explodes into a fit of hysterical crying.  Everything about her is leaking.
 
Baba Wawa keeps a cool face with a tiny noncommittal smile.  Her eyes stare sleepily and unblinking.  She is patient as her formula takes effect.  Her arm is as firm as the statue of liberty hoisting her torch.  “Uh, Ms. Wuv, can you tell me what’s making you cwy?”
 
Love blubbers and shudders and plops down on her bottom.  She loses a slipper in her descent and wipes dripping snot on the back of her arm.  She leans over Baba Wawa’s microphone above Baba Wawa’s mildly-condescending-pleasant-without-sincerity-and-yet-not-entirely-provably-insincere expression and shrieks, “They’re fucking up HIS message Babs!”
 
“Uh, Ms. Wuv~ is it twoo you O-widge-in-a-wee sold the wights to Koat’s song?”  Baba Wawa investigates using a monotone delivery.  Her heavy drowsy lids give her a certain air of boredom.  Her trademark work ethic makes her not so much trustworthy as reliable.
 
Love sniffles as she considers the question.
 
“Ms. Wuv, duzn’t that make you a hypocwit?
 
“High-Yaah!”  Miss Piggy grunts and makes a quick karate chop toward Love.  Her long hair tosses around like a shampoo commercial.
 
Love howls and grabs the rhinestone tiara off Miss Piggy’s head.  The audience watches Love attempt to place the sparkling crown on top of her dirty tangles.
 
Miss Piggy lunges at Love’s neck and the two fall into a tussle, Love’s thighs squeaking loudly against the floor like the sound of skidding basketball shoes.
 
Baba Wawa  turns her microphone into the crowd and points it at a young woman. “Uh, Fwannie Fah-muh Joonior, doo you be-weave the Muppets raped your Faw-though?”
 
Francis shakes her head.  She glances briefly at her mother’s wrestling match with Miss Piggy.  “Please consider the source.”  She says without humor.
 
Baba Wawa nods.  She appears both serious and appreciative.  “Fwannie Fah-muh Joonior, does that mean you be-weave your muh-though is cuh-went-wee on dwugs?”
 
“I don’t have to reach far to answer that.”  Francis replies as she observes Miss Piggy and her mother pulling each other’s hair and biting each others fingers.
 
Baba Wawa ducks as Miss Piggy throws Love’s other slipper into the the second row, narrowly missing her hair-sprayed bangs.  Her eyelids flutter momentarily and there is some speculation she may go down.  She seems accusatory as she pivots for gleeful witnesses.  She efficiently straightens her blazer and stands with an uplifted chin.
 
The crowd bursts with applause as Miss Piggy slams Love’s wide face into Animal’s bass drum and returns her bent tiara to her now disheveled tresses.  “Hummmph!”  Miss Piggy bellows and crosses her arms over her fat cleavage in smug triumph.
 
HERE MY SMELL!”  Animal roars and his uni-brow goes up and down suggestively.  He raises his arms above his bobbing head and clicks his drumsticks three times before launching into a frenetic solo on the toms.  His grin is wide and toothy. 
Love quivers and spasms, splayed on her stomach below, her head still resting inside the HOLE of the bass drum.
***

The Kermit the Frog “Piggy Got Back” (lyric and music “spoof” video) is being posted here for NO COMMERCIAL PURPOSES.  The character voice is NOT Jim Henson or Steve Whitmire and this production has no affiliation to the actual Muppet Show or Henson/Disney empire.  

I am grateful for: “a wild place to breathe in whole…”

“the china store and the bull” (mixed media) by K. J. Legry

He sat across from her on the train, where he’d been assigned and he was startled and very happy by the arrangement; their tickets declaring them both “singles” and he had stood behind her in the pre-boarding line talking on his cellular phone the whole time to some guy-pal, like maybe a college roommate but probably more like a business associate, and he asked ‘would there be any good looking women there when he arrived for his visit?’ standing right there behind her, he was asking this.

 
So, I mean… you could see him visibly light up when he got to be seated with her and even though she obviously wanted to read her book about child abuse trauma (and he interrupted her to ask her what she was reading because he was an opportunist and this was his idea of an intellectual pick-up line) he found himself mildly disturbed by the seriousness of her subject matter so rather hopefully inquired if she was a student to which she replied basically, ‘no’ by shaking her head and offered nothing else which intrigued him more than he could have ever imagined and made him entirely uncomfortable and so he fished again, ‘are you a social worker?‘  And the woman looked directly at him with her beautiful (gray or green or blue; he could not be sure for certain what color) eyes and she lied. 
She told him she was considering it.  
 
Immediately his mood brightened as if he’d found the right stepping stones and striving for dance steps, he complimented her for pursuing such a higher cause and he launched into his childhood story because maybe this beautiful woman could actually save him from bachelorhood and a subtle repression he blames on his sister’s photography.  He mentioned he was actually a pretty good sculptor back in university but that he had ‘purposely gone into the dry, boring, profitable field of computer engineering,’ and he made sure to stress to her, ‘successfully.’  He said he didn’t want to be like his mother who was a master glass blower.  A mistress of the crystal ball.  Literally providing instruments of hocus pocus up and down the west coast.  Mostly middle-aged women sported her witch-balls (intended to ward off and or capture dark spirits) in their whimsical tea gardens, although several psychics paid top dollar for table-top oracles elevated by silver-plated tripods.  Wand knobs, divination pendulums, and ritual chalices sold like hotcakes.  However, and he winked at the beautiful woman when he said this, his mother raked in the most cash for her rearview mirror car ornaments, glass chillums, and elaborate water bongs.  He laughed self-concously and searched her face for signs of liberal or conservative reaction.  She gave neither but nodded to convey that she’d heard.  
 
Her reservation frustrated him but he found the nod encouraging and so continued in a lively manner, revealing that he didn’t want to end up like his father who was a master wood carver.  He was paid by some Hopi or Chinook Indian to carve a totem pole, even.  He grinned and reported his father was pure-blood Irish-Catholic.  Not a drop of American Indian but at the EXPO where his father’s booth proudly displayed his polished life-sized mahogany Jesus bust with a detached centerpiece of hands folded in prayer, a Chief, no less, approached him and praised him for being a true visionary.  They discussed wood grain and how to coax the spirits from the rings.  His father had additionally provided a small demo of his skill at a wood block where he informatively described his blades and planes and proceeded to whittle a whistle in the shape of a dove and when he lifted his lips to blow through the hollow tail, a sweet perfect note in ‘C’ sang out the beak.  His father had designed and built the alter at their church and donated his oak banisters and handrails to senior centers and nursing homes and taught how to build his benches, picnic tables and bunkbeds to a Boy Scouts of America troop.  He confessed to the beautiful woman how his father made his actual living on elaborate personalized coffins though. ‘King Tut woulda been so lucky to have been buried in a sarcophagus carved by my father.’ he assured her as she sat silently and listened.    
 
He looked to her now, not so much at her, but more wanting comfort, that her companionship would bear with his every conversational whim and he longed for a stiff drink and asked abruptly, ‘Do they serve cocktails on the train?’  The woman shrugged and said she didn’t drink, but that they hadn’t announced the dining car being open yet.  It was closed between lunch and dinner, she said.  He nodded grimly, jarred by her statement, and he leaned forward to ask, ‘You don’t drink ever?’
 
“Nope.”  she said.
 
Just nope .  That was it.  
 
Nope…’ he sighed and fell back against his seat.  He muttered, ‘Yeah, my family are all alcoholics.’  His right knee jiggled and hopped closer to her leg, narrowing the space between them and then he distractedly recommended that she see an animated film about a rag doll, if she hadn’t already… he forgets the name, but it’s some macabre version of Raggedy Ann that Neil Gaiman ripped off and they remade it in CGI. 
 
When she moved her leg away from his.  He said in reference to the movie, she’d like it.
***
The Heartless Bastards “Parted Ways” (official music video) is being posted here for NO COMMERCIAL PURPOSES.
Heartless Bastards “Parted Ways” LYRICS
And the wind it tore through the atmosphere
And the air it filled with dust
Such a far connection within every direction
Some places I’ve already been
And no, drive slow,
Loneliness too many things have changed
And no, I just don’t look at things the same way now
Since we parted ways
Out in the space, I’m alone with
The only hum of the wheels, they are carrying me
On to a wild space to breathe in,
Oh I need it, a wild place to breathe in, whole
And the sun went down in this little ghost town
Near the valley of the rio grande
I need a little bit of whiskey and a little bit of time
To ease my troubled mind
oh Lost love and loneliness, so many things have changed
And no, I just don’t look at things the same way now
Since we parted ways, Out in the space,
I’m alone with the only hum of the wheels,
They are carrying me on to a wild space to breathe in,
Oh on to a wild space to breathe in,
Whole…
out in the space,
I’m alone with the with the only hum of the wheels,
They are carrying me on to a wild space to breathe in,
Oh on to a wild space to breathe in,
Whole out in to the wild space  to breathe in whole
 Gonna get on out Just gonna get it out Oh Now if I want to be free, I’m gonna run Takes a lot, oh so much of my energy I’m going around and I have found In order to leave in this great big town, Takes a lot, take a lot, takes a lot, takes a lot
Songwriters: Erika Wennerstrom
Parted Ways lyrics © Reach Music Publishing

I am grateful for: “those that would answer the call…”

portrait of K.J. Legry as “laundry woman” by Moona ElBoukhari

Maa Kali says, “I will kill you man boys, you crybabies, your ego…” and she sticks her tongue out to flick it.

And Jesus says, “Listen to your father and be nice to your brother.”
and Buddha says, “Never Mind.”
I am a traitor to everyone because
the truth betrays us all
and sets them free;
us and we
that would fight
for 
“it…”
for “us”
that would still care
about “we”
and HOW not WHY to protect you all.
i just do.
not that it matters to U.
And freedom doesn’t grant more control
and freedom doesn’t make “them” fall
it just rings for those that would answer the call.
***

The Steve Lacy “Ryd/ Dark Red” (music video) is being posted here for NO COMMERCIAL PURPOSES.

Steve Lacy “Ryd/ Dark Red” LYRICS:

(Part One Ryd)

Speedin’ down the backstreet
I’m tryin’ to get you in my backseat
‘cuz I want you to ride with me 
Baby ride on me

Speedin’ down the backstreet
I’m tryin’ to get you in my backseat
‘cuz I want you to ride with me
Baby ride on me

I see the way you lookin’ at me
Through my peripheral
Vision pretty baby as I ride on this empty road
I’m just lookin’ for somethin’ to do
Asked if she was hungry does she want any food and
She said, “Nah” then she kissed me on my cheek
Next thing I know she was feelin’ on me
And
I was in the M double-O D
When she said park my car down the backstreet

Speedin’ down the backstreet
I’m tryin’ to get you in my backseat
‘cuz I want you to ride with me
Baby ride on me

Speedin’ down the backstreet
I’m tryin’ to get you in my backseat
‘cuz I want you to ride with me
Baby ride on me

(Part Two Dark Red)

Something bad is ’bout to happen to me
I don’t know it but I feel it comin’
Might be so sad, might leave my nose running
I just hope she don’t wanna leave me

Don’t you give me up, please don’t give up
On me, I belong, with you, and only you, baby
Only you, my girl, only you, babe
Only you, darling, only you, babe
Only you, my girl, only you, babe
Only you, darling, only you

Something bad is ’bout to happen to me
Why I feel this way I don’t know maybe
I think of her so much it drives me crazy
I just don’t want her to leave me

Don’t you give me up, please don’t give up
On me, I belong with you, and only you, baby
Only you, my girl, only you, babe
Only you, darling, only you, babe
Only you, my girl, only you, babe
Only you, darling, only you

What if she’s fine
It’s my mind that’s wrong
And I just let bad thoughts
Linger for far too long
What if (if!), she’s fine (fine!)
It’s my mind that’s wrong
And I just (just!) let bad thoughts (thoughts!)
Linger for far too long

Don’t you give me up please don’t give up
On me, I belong, with you, only you, baby
Only you, my girl, only you, babe
Only you, darling, only you, babe
Only you, my girl, only you, babe
Only you, darling, only you

(roll credits)

I just wanna take it…

take it, take it, take it,

take it slow…

ooh ahha…

saaay~ I just wanna take it,

take it, take it,

take it slow… oh~