The Most Varied Sounds in the Animal Kingdom (for Maggie Rogers)

In Alaska, where the polar bears chill, I watched a humpback whale dance the lambada underneath a rippling blanket of northern lights

and I thought of you.

I thought of you playing banjo in New York City, maybe busking by a subway train charming C.H.U.D.s with your gentle atmospherics and low key grooves. I wasn’t by your side there. This was only a dream of you

because I was in Alaska.

I was in Alaska, where the cold air does not sing gently and the polar bears will never get their groove back. In Alaska, the Eskimeaux will never get their ice back nor their 10 billion names for snow. I heard those humpback whales will soon migrate to the Eastern seaboard just to hear you play upon a rocky shore. And those northern lights, well, they’ll go right on twinkling,

whether or not there’s anyone around to watch.

The Most Varied Sounds in the Animal Kingdom (for Maggie Rogers)

Friday Lyrics Mash: Welcome To The Jungle Love

Said I, I’m a little dangerous
Ya learn to live like an animal
I got a bearskin rug
And I’m all the way wild baby
Come on baby, where’s your guts?
If you want it you’re gonna bleed
You know where you are?
I,

I wanna hear you scream
Girl, I’d love to show ya
You’re gonna die
You’re in the jungle baby
Girl, I’d love to show ya
Welcome to the jungle
My jungle love, yeah
Jungle love

Friday Lyrics Mash: Welcome To The Jungle Love

Cheers

i live with these machines and these machines know my name and these machines give me tongue baths OH! these machines tweak my nipples OH! these machines these machines these machines with wires so long and lovely blue tangles they know my name i live with these machines these machines they know my name they call my name they call my name these machines these machines these machines

they all know my name

Cheers

Friday Lyrics Mash: M.F., I’m Too Sexy

Love’s going to leave me
There!
U sexy motherfucker
That’s why I tell u things
And I’m too sexy for your party
Come here baby, yeah
Why all the cosmic talk?
I’m too sexy for my love
Sexy motherfucker shakin’ that ass, shakin’ that ass, shakin’ that ass

I’m too sexy for my cat
I get hard if the wind blows your cologne near me
In a word or 2 – it’s u I wanna do
Ain’t no one else around
I like it, I like it
We need 2 talk about things
Sexy motherfucker
I’m too sexy for my love
And I do my little turn on the catwalk
I got wet dreams comin’ out of my ears
Sexy motherfucker shakin’ that ass, shakin’ that ass, shakin’ that ass

Too sexy for my shirt
Sexy motherfucker
I’m a model, you know what I mean
This ain’t about the body, it’s about the mind
And I’m too sexy for this song
Sexy, sexy, sexy, sexy
U sexy motherfucker
U sexy motherfucker
Too sexy for my hat
See this ain’t about sex
Sexy motherfucker
I’m too sexy for my car
I’m too sexy for my shirt
Scrub the dishes
U sexy motherfucker
I’m just havin’ fun
I’m a model, you know what I mean
Sexy motherfucker shakin’ that ass, shakin’ that ass, shakin’ that ass

When we take that walk
I shake my little tush on the catwalk
What d’ya think about that?
Too sexy for my love
No way I’m disco dancing
Too sexy for my cat
Come here baby, yeah
Poor pussy cat
Come here baby, yeah
U seem perplexed I haven’t taken u yet
Sexy motherfucker
Sexy motherfucker
So sexy it hurts
U sexy motherfucker
U sexy motherfucker
Too sexy for my love
Too sexy for my car
U sexy motherfucker
Sexy motherfucker
U sexy motherfucker
Too sexy by far
U sexy motherfucker
Sexy motherfucker
Sexy motherfucker
Yo man
Love’s going to leave me

I don’t even know what to say about Prince dying. Bowie felt like a slap to the face. Phife felt like a kick in the shin. Prince feels like a kick in the nuts. And I don’t really know why I feel so shitty about it. I didn’t know the man. I am just a devotee of his music. I listen to one of his records every other day. I never even list Prince albums on my desert-island lists because I figure its a given that you’re asking me to name 10 records I’d want besides my Prince records…I don’t even know what to say or why it feels so personal.
All is change and that is all.
https://jasonpreu.wordpress.com/2015/08/24/menu/
https://jasonpreu.wordpress.com/2015/04/21/what-lies-beneath-business-casual/
Keep it funky, party people.

OaD3bWV

Friday Lyrics Mash: M.F., I’m Too Sexy

Welcome to the Wonderhole!

ǂKawa ǁeiba xu ǂgosen tama īs gye ǂkhõas tsĩ ǀam-ǂgōsens tsĩna ra ū-hā.*

You fuckers know nothing.
Call me a mistake –
Jy dink gode maak foute?
Maybe they do. Sure. But the mistake is you.
You, with vinegar for blood.
You, with broken glass for teeth.
You, mistake of the gods.
Nie Grote Slang!
Grote Slang die voortreflike!
You never run faster than when
     you see the elephant snake
     running your way.

So Welkom by die Wondergat!
     where there were no mistakes
     until you arrived, wicked head,
     wasped tongued
     preying
     tulpe uitloop uit jou bors.

Welkom by die Wondergat!
     Richtersveld
     where we’re all smiles and candy
     treasures for you here;
     where we’re decked in crisp, dress whites
     for the belles of the balls.

Welkom by die Wondergat!
     Richtersveld,
     deep underground,
     treasures for you here,
     last bastion of perfection,
     first place the gods visit
     when they drop in on creation.

Speak so guttural and bathe yourselves in milk, mistakes.
Stay out of the sun and lick your trigger fingers, mistakes.
Play sad songs under wax, wooden candle-lights, mistakes.

Invent new words and worlds, mistakes!
Welkom by die Wondergat!
Welkom by die Wondergat!

Treasures for you here.
We can’t correct you here.
No, we won’t correct you here.

*Nama – “What sorrow and trouble are brought about by useless anger!”

Welcome to the Wonderhole!

Field Guides and Frogmen

The Field Guide to North American Monsters tells me
that in Loveland, OH,
along the reedy trenches of the Ohio & the Little Miami,
tucked under old steel bridges,
poised just at the waters’ edges,
lives a Frogman.

The Guide does not advise whether the Frogman dines
on buckeye candy and shaker lemon pie,
or whether he sticks to traditional riverside cuisine
like wayward flies and lost flutterbys.

The Field Guide advises that witnesses provide disparate details.

The Field Guide to North American Monsters has no information
about the tepid summer of 1997 when sixteen-year-old Missy Barton
went for a hike at Lake Isabella Park
and found the Frogman,
kissed him lovingly, leisurely, longingly
on his damp and somewhat slimy lips.

The Guide does not advise on matters of the heart –
only matters of monsters,
North American monsters.

Field Guides and Frogmen