"…something like the supervisor of an entire team of political agents…"
Cecil Vortex Trying to cover the three of us with one umbrella.
My naked hand out for a cab full-body soaked as that car roared by
and I was wet and cold and pissed.
Then giving up counting our change to catch the crosstown bus
climbing onboard paying our fare and me
surprised to find it half-empty in the rain.
I think most of us have been there at one time or another. I know I have. And I don’t mean that metaphorically either.
Here’s a piano/vocal song about those times, and what we were thinking. And maybe even a little about what we were feeling. Standing there. All banana-handed.
It’s less than one meg, not even 900K really. Because you deserve a quick-downloading song about being banana-handed. What with all the good works you do. So enjoy! And watch the skies, -CV
Press Play to play.
playtime::56 seconds
file specs: just south of 900K mp3
Yesterday
I really let him jump on me
let him throw himself into me
like some red-headed salmon
and me the current
his feet slapping the waves.
He was laughing, slap-laughing
and flying, slap-flying.
And then I was the sand
and he was the ocean
and he stretched me apart and he wore me down
and he sent me
streaming
out to
sea.
When it's all clouded over thick, sheep's belly wool blocking out stars and sky you have to think: Shit! We're screwed!
Now we'll never see the aliens when they come to eat our brains out.
He talks in a low hum
with no air between the words.
He fills all the space.
He fills all the space.
Hefillsallthespace.
He’s like crickets.
He sat down sobbing
into his hands.
50 cents
and he wanted them
to give him a dollar for it.
Retarded. “I hate math.”
And I just wanted to have lunch.
Then he stood, bearded
burly Thor
retarded.
“I hate math!” again
looking back
through his beard
over one thick shoulder.
And he thundered off.
Walking is a kind of dance.
Dancing is the only way to move.
(this from my 6-year-old back when she was a 4-or-5-year-old.)
John Lennon, Paul McCartney, and the late-great Marlon Brando all are hanging out over at Monkey Vortex Radio Theater. You know, just kinda…kickin’ it. Shouldn’t you?
Listen in on their private conversation in the latest MVRT episode, appropriately enough entitled John, Paul, and Brando. Plus: John, Paul, and Brando, “Tangy Brie” Remix!
Here’s an instrumental thang that I’ve been noodling around with for the last week or so.
It goes kinda like this: da da da da, da da da — blinnngggg, da da da. Oh, ya know, it’s a wee thing. Hardly even a meg. Why not just download the tune fer yourself and hear this haunting melody the way it was meant to be heard? — with sounds….
Press Play to play.
playtime:1:03
file specs: just south of 1MB mp3
Breaking news: Lyrics for Double Agent of Love are currently being developed by a small but well-trained army of underpaid worthsmithies working under the watchful eye and toe-tapping heel of xian. Look for the altogether vocalized version, coming (fairly) soon to a cecilvortex.com near you.
I walk into the restroom
and there are these two guys in
there and it already stinks
and they look at me like
I did something wrong
and I’m thinking hey —
I just got here and then
one of them leaves and then
the other one leaves
so now I’m all alone for
like two-and-a-half heartbeats
and then some new guy comes in —
some third guy, or fourth, really,
if you count me, and he’s
walking right in, through that same door
and he’s looking at me
like I did something wrong
and I’m thinking damn.
I mean damn. I’m spending
altogether too much time
in this stinky bathroom.