MAY 2003

 

My Big Fat Nervous System

I have gestured wildly, cha-cha’d in place, done the
Cross over two step, stood with Stepford serenity,
While I backed myself up balls to the flats, playing
In the Drunken Wall of Sound Band, the Sound of
Mind Band, Last Will and Testicle Band, the
Almost Dead Band and the Somnambulating
Somewhere, but no too far from Near-Death Band.

There was a
Totally Goth Band, a Stake Thru The head Band,
A Rubber Band, The Hard Rubber Band and the
Big Fat Hairy A-is-for-All-of-Me Band, and nothing
Could be worse than the Two’s a Crowd Band, or
Peetie and the Pole Cat Polka Dot Band, to be left
For dead, hooked into the Fly Fisherman’s Hat Band,
The Catfish Fryin' Bandsaw Band or the Muy Chili
Pepper Con Carne Salsa Band and her sister band,
The Cabana Boat of Political Prison Refugees Band.
        

You don’t know what its like to be Kidnapped by a
Snake Skin Total Waste, A.K.A Snaky Waste of Skin
Band, to break the mental bonds that tie one to
Normal expectations or any semblance of order,
Reason, sanity, illness or method of suicide. Such
As the Plain Songs of the Prairie Band, the Nail
Gun Band, the Cactus Loaf Oven Band, or the
Titillating Tom Boy’s Band, and me, there I am
wiggling on stage with Howdy Ho and the
Undulating all white co-ed Hula Girl Band or the
Cheech and Chongalese Liberated Salvation
Army Band, the Citizen’s Band, The Denizen’s
Band, the Partisan’s Band, the Post Partum Band
And the Students for a Democratic Beer Bash Band.

I have played with the Boys in Black, in the choir, in
The back room, in the pink, in the stink of cigar smoke
With little people somersaulting through fiery hoops.
Did I say Scrape the Red Clay off your Shoe Band? A
Sinking Depth of Despair Band,  Nearly Eastern Band,
A Band from Hell on a Tear after a Pound of Coke
Band, and who could forget the Long Wrinkled Sleeves
Of Grass Band, or hey, Dickie Doodle and the Drool,

There was a Different Drummer Band, Missing Guitar
Band, Pocket Rocket Band and the Need a Place to
Crash Band. And Last but not least, the Unitarian Cool
Aid Cookie Band opening for Bent Coat Hanger Men
With Fried Egg Eyes From Another Planet    Band.

For every one of those bands there was a party where
17 guys named Stan showed up to score something. 
I’ve known them all and blown with the best and worst,
Let go my Virginia clay and stood around waiting for
Fire and rain, pleasure and pain, or mega downloads 
For a brain slick cyber whiz who runs the robot booth,

But I will not get in line with that slow death march
To punch the time clocks of the work ethic, because
My big fat nervous system was not   set up   for that.

   

©Jimmy Warner, 2011