Captain Beefheart Hey Garland I Dig Your Tweed Coat L
Hey Garland, I dig your tweed coat. I'll trade you a
domino this size, mothball-scented. The woman silk nude
tie painting his chest. One celluloid stay exposed
through his nibbled collar. Feet speckled the sidewalk.
Faces gurgled through windows. Passing cars gum rubber
streaks. Neon plants swim like green seaweed to a deep
rhythm of blues. Red thyroid sunsets, flame in speckled
chemistry. Pipes run off dark tubes. Erase into marks
that pour the dye of darkness. Crystal comes together
as silent as ink.
"I don't think I could let it go. I got it at the
religious scene"
Teeth let go, tobacco juice, an oiled balloon, brown
eye in an egg white, black tar bubbles and stripes. A
straw hat squeaked on the brim of a feather. Newsprint
thumbed through nicotine fingers, a dark olive was
turned on. Its small pulp speaker burst into a scream.
One large tomato was immediately peeled skin red. It
bled into a red "O" and smacked behind accepted fangs.
Quick eyebrows danced cutely above a mole. The bridge
held a large gold pair of spectacles. The front was
smooth. It slightly gathered and wrinkled at the holes.
A dark wooden moustache deposited below above Chinese
red varnished lips that dented slightly into the
evening.
"It's gotten quite cold. I've decided I can't sell you
my coat."
Honking, the wind puffed into the clumps above the
lattice rows. And out looked Panatella, naked and not
ashamed, without no clothes. Wiggle Pig went snout-
first into a tree. The rubber turkey was gobbled up by
the night's dark rubber mouth. A white phosphorous
raindrop dropped in the sky. Hot silhouettes in a
convertible gave this applause. And several white
porcelain trays were rolled in by bumblebees. Their
wings arranged with pictures out of the past. And the
rainbow baboon gobbled fifteen fish eyes with each
spoon. Pockets was caught at window level. Approaching
the fractured glass, dripping in light, he spoke: "I've
just looked at myself, and from here to here it ain't
far enough, but from here to here it's too short." "And
circles don't fly, they float," Pena exclaimed and went
on to say, "Sun sure did shine this year. Who'd you
look like underneath?"
Steve Robey sent this to Justin, along with this
amusing story:
'During college (1987-1991), my friend Rob and I would
go up to drunk partygoers and recite this entire piece
in their ears (one in the left, one in the right).
Turned many an otherwise conservative, mainstream drunk
into a very confused, conservative, mainstream
drunk.....