Archive for the ‘house of music’ Category


Posted: 02/25/2014 in house of music

Ladies and germs, please welcome three gentlemen and one great great broad, Coal Black and Poison Apple!



(heavy drum beat)

Hello Tulsaaaaaaaaaaa!

(wild applause, bass line drops in)

Fuck y’all, caintcha do any better’n that???

(wilder applause, guitar chords)

All right!


You and your tweaker friends stay up all week

screwing parts from the fire alarm to my tv,

I think it’s pretty lame, yeah I think it’s strange

when ya don’t want my lovin but ya want my brains

Sh-sh-sh-shamble baby

(you’re undead!)

It’s bullsh-sh-sh-shamble

(when you’re undead!)

When I first metcha, you were awful fine,

But now you got no teeth and a burned-out mind,

I’d rather puke than kiss ya, it’s just snot the same,

cos all you ever wanna do is eat my brain!

You’re rotten baby

(you’re undead!)

sh-sh-shamble baby

(cos you’re undead!)

I can’t stay with ya, can’t stick around,

so why dontcha just go underground?

Let’s bury the past and your sorry ass,

Just stay dead baby,

this time baby, cos


(you’re undead!)

It’s bullsh-sh-sh-shamble

(when you’re undead!)

Lemme see ya shamble, Tulsaaaaa!

(guitar shred)

Oh hell yeah!

ever since i can recall

there ain’t been that much that i could change, at all;

clouds roll across the sky

january turn to april, then july,

and it don’t pause to ask me what i think.

as a child i had a puppy slept right on my bed

not so long a time and i was kissing his poor old gray-gone head;

then the first time i loved someone

such a short time and it was done

so it seems like hearts that rise are bound to sink.

but baby,

from the first day i knew your name

you’ve made me grin like a fool with the things you’ve always said

and when i’m broken hearted, when the world hurts me hard,

sweet honey, you are my balm in gilead.

it’s true it’s true

what that old bible always said,

that love can lift and love can mend–

sweet honey you are my

balm in gilead.



Posted: 09/12/2012 in house of music, house of women

i like janis–

sure like joan–

but marlene…mercy.

who told hitler to take his reich

and stick it where the sun don’t shine?

marlene got no mercy for a bastard like that.

who looked the same nine kinds of fine

in a gown and gloves

or tails and top hat?

marlene, you could charm any girl or guy–

think i’ve seen “morocco” twenty nine times…mercy,

make me lose my mind.

i like janis–

sure like joan,

but marlene…mercy.


for izy’s “out of standard” challenge at real toads: rebel girl

me and poison apple are settin up our stuff

on the stage at bayou pumpsie’s southern rib palace.

it’s late afternoon. the lights are on and the place is mostly empty

except for this guy at the bar wearin a wife beater and a bill cap.

he got hair in his ears and lots to say.

“what’s a purty little gal like you doin’ in a place like this?’ he say, grinnin like he just thought it up.

cos yankee stadium was booked, you dumb cocksucker, i think, but i’m too much the lady to say.

how come these guys hit forty,

get comfy at a gig in the shipping department at asshat & sons,

and all sudden like, they think god reached down and filled their bald empty domes with all the knowledge and wisdom of the freakin ages?

they start up with “what ya got to understand”

and wind up with

“see what i’m sayin?”

no, dude, you too deep for me,

like a stall ain’t been mucked out for fifty fuckin years.

i’m thinkin, mister, you the kentucky derby of bullshit.

you the super bowl of fuckin stupidity.

you the grand marshall of the talkin-out-your-ass parade.

the guy at the bar sips his beer,

and my ears almost stop bleedin.

then he’s off again, he knows every player on every team in every sport,

but can’t find his dick with both hands and a pack of hound dogs.

he in mid rant when it starts up from the stage–

feedback like jimi hendrix passin a kidney stone.

“oops” i say and

smile quietly to m’self, cos i’m

ever the fuckin lady.


for kerry’s challenge at real toads

just before the show,

the boys from the truck

said, coal check out our

electric duck.

the duck done died,

so they shocked its heart

and damned if it didn’t quack

a fine f sharp.

the bottle is empty

but it always was,

always was.

and somehow the thing that i think might save me





oh baby, don’t you know

that i’m the thorn in the garden,

but i am the pretty rose, too.

only a fool would ever think the summer might last

or fall in love

fall in love

fall in love

with you.

the bottle is empty, the sky is too,

and i cut off my hair cos i was angry.

i never could explain the things that i do

except to say, i’m sorry, i was lonely.

the bottle is empty

but it always was,

always was.

and if i tell you that i love you and you ask me why,

i’ll cry and tell you


oh just,

honey just


my blackbird

Posted: 05/02/2012 in house of love, house of music

got a special blackbird

with red on her wing

i tell my blackbird

every little thing

and she say baby baby baby

she love the hum when she sits on the wire

give her a chance, and she gonna go higher

so i say sing little blackbird sing.

she perch on the post

at the edge of the farm

she nest in the tree

tween the house and the barn

and she say baby baby baby baby.

she’s my special blackbird

with red on her wing

i tell my blackbird

every little thing

i love her from monday til the church bell ring

so sing little blackbird sing.

people talk

and people say

that love,

oh love,

is sure enough a beautiful thing.

people talk

but don’t think,

and when it comes to love

oh love,

they don’t know a goddam thing.

love will give

but it don’t give for free…

and what it does

it does

without mercy–

love will change you

and you won’t even see

that what it does, it does merciless–




for Marian’s music prompt (Joan Armatrading)


Posted: 02/04/2012 in house of music

when i dream, i dream with music.

sometimes i wake up, mornings,

with it ringing in my ears,

like i just walked off stage.


Posted: 01/20/2012 in house of music

smoke across the spot light,

chili pot of voices, see no faces,

i fidget stage right, tap my foot from nerves.

apple is out there, pluggin in, turnin on,

messin with the microphones.

jake looks my way and alls it takes

is a nod and a smile;

he twirls a stick and starts a beat…

bass shakes the stage and it’s

alive beneath by boots,

then it’s me, walkin out there,

neon bright,

i sweep my hair back and step up,

uncoiling like a snake and I

let everything i feel, everything i can’t speak,

every animal in the zoo up from the

middle of me and i scream,

“bay city, are ya ready?!!!”

they are, and i

sing for em like we was all born for it.