Yearly Archives: 2007


Stay Home vs. The Love Shoppings

20 December 2007

Everyone’s Picasso Now
Comatose/Straightjacket
Echo Lake
Spaced Out
Karma
Overheard Confessions
Isn’t It A Pity
Peaceful Songs
Love Note From The Future

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The Green Fairy Kaleidefuzzyscope

—–Original Message—–
From: Starrman [mailto:[redacted]]
Sent: Monday, December 17, 2007 10:13 AM
To: Reflector, Westy
Subject: absinthe ..

what up Wes-T.

I hear you are our resident expert on absinthe. I also hear that it was just legalized.
Can you recommend a good real bottle that I could easily pick up here in the city? I’m dying to try this stuff .. I have tried the artificial green licorice variety last time I was in greece and was underwhelmed. Is there anything available with real wormwood .. actually hallucinogenic?

thanks,
starr

—–Original Message—–
From: Westy Reflector [mailto:[redacted]]
Sent: Monday, December 17, 2007 2:08 PM
To: ‘Starrman’
Subject: RE: absinthe ..

Starrman –

How’s the eyeball business? Sorry I missed you the other week. I trust Tull was excellent.

I spent 1 night in London in the late 90s drinking the The Green Fairy with a few friends and by the end of the night we had all made up new names for ourselves and I woke up in someone else’s shirt. Since then, I’ve been obsessed. Continue reading


Everyone’s Picasso Now

Junk is a habit
Habits are formed
From a pattern
From a routine

Everything’s an equation. Everyone’s their own god now.
Everyone’s a sensation. Everyone is too smart now.

Space is a dream
Borders never smile
Earn a dollar
Earn a living

Living is short
Short for living wage
So wage war
Against the system please

Everything’s a revelation. Everyone’s a caveman now.
Everyone’s a sensation. Everyone is too smart now.

All at once
Everyone’s larger than life
But love starts life
Because life’s just a point of view
On the world
That makes this world
Safe for love

Everything’s a revelation. Everyone’s a caveman now.
Everything’s a temptation. Everyone’s a sinner now.
Everything’s a flirtation. Everyone’s a big shot now.
Everyone is too smart now.
Everyone’s their own god now.
Everyone’s Picasso Now.
Everyone is too smart now (that’s a warning).

11.29.2004 12:34am


Cult Status

Cult status
Don’t have to watch what I say
Cult status
Not too much in my way
I’m gonna be the biggest thing in small town
And when you’re not looking
That’s when I’ll be

Cult status
Travel by subway
Cult status
Goin my own way
I’m gonna be the smallest fish in the big big pond
And when you’re not lookin
That’s when I’ll be headed for

Cult status
My foot in the door
Cult status
Don’t want no more
Gonna be the first one in and the last one out
And where you’re not lookin’
that’s where I’ll be



Winter Advice, p.i.


Echo Lake

before everything just fades…

gotta get out of echo lake
is it too much to ask
to challenge your fate?
gotta get out of echo lake

gotta get out before it’s too late
it’s never enough to know
to jump aboard that train.

schedule me some piece of mind
let me fall into easy times
cover me with memory
til i’m blind

gotta let out all the collar seams
it’s a mouthful to swallow
in someone else’s dreams
i got to get out as real as this may seem

gotta get out of echo lake
it’s too much
to ask
to re-sign your fate
gotta get out before it’s too late

everything just fades

08.14.1995; 07.07.2006 9:57am


Overheard Confessions

you’re a catholic priest listening to a stream of sunday confessions. in the final one, a woman admits her love for you and asks you to help her escape. what do you do?

“Morning is the hardest time when the mirror leaves you blue”
“He says it’s always the same you got no one to blame but the one looking back at you”

“15 years working on the line just to try make a name”
“And all those voices are quiet now who said he’d be something great”

“Hey god here’s 50
Dollars for all the years
At a dollar a prayer that’s 50 Prayers ”

“help him get some help getting out of here”

“He’s been dreaming of Hunter’s fireworks – sayin ‘shoot me to space that’s cool’ ”
“Everytime HST looked up do you think he lit that fuse?”

“He’s been gambling with our future for a while”
“He’s been holding out all his life for that last quarter mile”

“But we can make it if we start now – it might not be too late
To turn one last midnight drive into a grand escape”

“Sometimes you seem to have fun with man,
picking him up just to knock him down”


Love Note From The Future

to the end and back. maybe.

Ever since that big causeway break
You’re in that trance where you never come out
& I keep flashing on that big wave
That came & washed our only way out

that’s all I know that’s all I know seven long years that’s all I know

Summer passed me by
You oughta know you
Were the reason why I
Wasted all this
Time

Always are stories you always tell
Drown it all out sleep through the night
Candides laughing behind every water well
All the hate and greed and power now amplified

it’s all the same it’s all the same since before before the wave

Summer passed me by
You oughta know you
Were the reason why I
Wasted all this
Time

I stopped thinking about life without war
Now there’s no such thing left as small talk
But I’ll never let down this old guitar
Even when it weighs so much
and this is such
a
long
walk


The why lie p-i.


AUSTINTOWN (ELECTION DAY 2004)
©2007, Westy Reflector

When they dig us up – they might never know
We dug so deep – left our evidence so far below
They might even think we were older than dinosaurs

Arrogance thinks we’ll see the end of the world
That we’d be last ones – that we’d get

the truth/the truth
it’s just funny how the truth
is just like Austintown

½ way between here & there
so many secrets I can’t begin to dare
to leave
escaping only in my dreams
sounds like Austintown

They’re gonna say we went backwards – all the way back
Before we went forward again Continue reading


Comatose/Straightjacket

the devil’s choice is always a temptation.

i had this debutante invite me to her ball
but she met another guy in the basement of the hall
wouldn’t you know it? she made 2 calls.

i gave them time to play a little duck and hide
i know they wanted ten but i only gave ‘em five
seconds to make up their mind

yeah, a coma or a straightjacket?
life is grand if you avoid half of it
your mind and body are forever split
so, a coma or a straightjacket?

you hear a man pump some gas into the car
how many gallons do you think there are?
you know if he popped that hatch – well, there you are!

yeah, a coma or a straightjacket?
life is grand if you avoid half of it
your mind and body are forever split
so, a coma or a straightjacket?

i had this debutante invite me to her ball
maybe next time she’ll only make 1 call
i just don’t think she remembers much at all

11.21.1996


Karma

choose a side, for once.

At least stand up for love
Since you never say the wrong thing
And you’re always on the right side

But you’ve never known stars brighter than a city night
‘Cause you never had to choose a side.

Everyone you’ve ever met just talked to each other
So ½ the people you’ve ever met now contradict the other
How does it feel to be?
Now that all the world walks by –
bye bye

It’s the softest sound
When dreams are loud
No one turns around

But you’ve never heard nothing louder than a starry night
Since you’ve never had to choose a side

Everyone you’ve ever met just talked to each other
So ½ the people you’ve ever met now contradict the other
How does it feel to be?
Now that all the world walks by –

bye bye

03.17.2005 12:00am


Peaceful Songs

every once in a while, country-fried.

One fine day
They’re gonna take me away
To that land of peaceful songs
And on that day they’ll hear me say
“I finally found a place where I belong!”

It’s been a long life and a long time comin
Too many heartbreaks in fair times
I’ve done a lot of hurting & I will pay the price
But I saved myself from a worthless life

One fine day
They’re gonna take me away
To that land of peaceful songs
And on that day they’ll hear me say
“I finally found a place where I belong!”

I carry ghosts and dreams of 22
And those days move faster into night
I left my home and a name that made me blue
That’s the last time that I’m turning at that light

One fine day
They’re gonna take me away
To that land of peaceful songs
And on that day they’ll hear me say
“I finally found a place where I belong!”


sign, since 1914

who dares go this way?

seaview marriott, formerly seaview country club
galloway, nj, june 16th, 4:42pm


The Shit Bag, pt. ii

Living with the Shit Bag was trying at first, but eventually it became a silent force that bonded me to my roommate and the rest of the building’s occupants.

Each Unit had a method for dealing with the Bag. Albain and Christie, chanteuses from Lyons summering in London to score a few gigs at Soho supper clubs, lived on the 3rd floor and decorated their “sac de merde” with grease pencil sketches of fruit and flowers. Charlie Hoffman and Mole (mo-LAY) Coons, Harvard and Cornell water polo players using London as a base to play the European summer circuit for money and debauchery, lived on the 2nd floor. Their WC was separated from their kitchen by a sheer curtain and their Bag hung from a curiously low hook on the wall between the toilet & shower, no doubt installed by previous occupants to keep from having to hang the Bag off of the kitchen utensil drawer handle.

My roommate on the 1st floor was Craig Kiner, an East Meadow, LI, expat working as an associate for the firm of Cravath, Swain, Moore, et al. He was gastronomically regular and quite tidy, so our Shit Bag always seemed fresh, god bless him. I was somewhat fortunate as the manager’s WC at my bartender job in Shepherd’s Market was paper friendly and the manager, Paddie Like A Sausage, quite generous. Paddie took gracious allowance to my Shit Bag predicament and agreed to let me use the manager’s WC so long as I stocked it with the latest News Of The World (“News of the Screws,” as he called it).

“Those bastards at News of the Screws ain’t fair to Georgie Best, but it’s the only real paper,” Paddie would say. “Eye wouldn’t even wipe me arse with the Times.”

 


The Shit Bag, pt. i

When I lived in London for a throw in the early 90s on the border of Holloway and Islington, my roommates & I had an “electric” toilet. The toilet’s outflow pipe was so skinny that our landlord, Omar Everyday In The Same Green Sweatsuit, forbid us to throw paper in it and cautioned that certain fibrous meals, when finally passed, were guaranteed to require a real cranking wellie on the flusher. Sometimes, though, even with the welliest wellie, not everything made it through the pipe and the unassuming plastic bag next to the bowl brush became “that of which we could not speak.” The flat was not air conditioned. The spectre of the Shit Bag haunts me…


Sky P.I.


sterling sniffs a slug


Garden Spy


medium rare, p.i.


friday it of post