sureHock

if
anyone wants

thee poems use them

for caulc annic and,llttle breedrc

"all wrlting it'piphlt" - tntonln

rtad

THE HODOWN HEYDOWN STOP

raan again

POEM

/ no gps combustion heater on the platform / the great cold mama in the sky .....she shakes a iar of honey
hodown heydown she shakes a iar a day rain again
some angels here between the boards

studio fixative in my soup....

SU

R EB

LOCK

you cannot tell anyone sToP / if you trv I you are trying to change them in their own elarenth hour in their own eleventh Plane their own ridiculous heaven the sounds of the star'sPangled mushrooms / the trumpet blown before your very eyes / mouth wide
grey again

it was midnight friday when cattle annie came

to my house...........
we had just eaten tacos
and cups of rosehip tea

for our sureblocked

with her shotgun and her riding boots and blew a hole

heads.....

she came in the kitchen

sky no tears today hodown heydown she shakc atear a day

right through the early koolia oven door

only the golliwog shadow / ziPPing and unzipping in a black and white movie I lite / sareral visions in one excellent breath
hodown heydown she rides a mile a dav through the turquoise forests in the sky

you oan ne\rer tell anYone STOP

POEM FOR CAPTAIN PATCHES

AND
so

I DON'T

SUPPOSE HE'LL
.

READ IT

guess

it's not my

bag
.

to

bead a pattern from your trials , you see , you've heard my sleeping talk in early light i watched you laughing when you told me things i'd done .

V. SMALL VERSES ABOUT

JAN ET

we are criminals in search of flowers natural . checking chinese gardens

in crepe and covered buttons the lady who is iust swenteen says through the telephone it's mutual consolation as if we know what she means
PETER

for smoke
and

so close to time there is no space in dreaming

and sacred vegetables

to
.

i plead for some abstraction steal my head away from me

.

the mooseboy is mumbling in his camomile

about picnics and buses and holypizooly and what'm'i doing here ; upstairs feeling too hot under a planet product angle lamp smoking a raPidograPh ?

tea

but all you show is fast and real and somewhere lost . without imagination and the crystal you believe in "watch me NOW" it seems to cry "i am.pretty . tiresome lonely ."

with most things mirrored in your eyes sometimes you find it hard.to speak but there are no sounds in the sunflecked tide and you have a friend in that . it would be safe to simply swim away
outside it's turned a little colder and you wonder if you understand anything at all about you and you once lost thirty dollars and you never got it back "

An academic death we never stopped to mourn

something else / apollinaire / was there to take us limPing down the broadway of the brain now we listen to nonthought android news reports and documentaries from the radio with no last truth monsieur artaud visits our breakfasts

MOUNTAINS fluorescent groy @verr mo and my oyos 8rs torn from sleeping gnrzed and clammy wlth the attltuda of a worried reptlle having wltncsed

the movement of mountains at tho rocky endr of the earth for a thousand yoaru ,

of red and blue

molecules
.

scribbled on scrapbook Pages

THE REO COCACOLA BOfiLE That we perform in ryndicates

became obvious

when , whiles on weeks alvay we found ourselves croting

some

DAYLIGHT ME
kidease , i am the member of the vanguard of the world is flat committee kidease , i Em captsin daylight , scared of no mammon no moloch , me

vry unified notions........

i spent the wints stond

and decided on a pair

of gymboor
boiling up vermilion in our workshops

to

make a mosure
;

captain of ultra violet

3un

on the world supply of cocacola

and other works of heart
desire in our drems and wistfulness .

ray

infra red
sting ray

me

hi

all the time

was wearing

the kind of shoes that being alive makes so dirty .

the world is flat , that , then kids , is THAT .

kidease ,

BLOWNFUSES
wi$ the elegtric radlator

i
, t,
,

painting my riding boots glcsmasta tengerino and hank williams rnaking it sad to be here in the kltchen rolling my own tobocco cigarettes . stoned . a lbng rrtay nrth of homp

The MoftilNo l,rdv Ynlkod about tqnn looking f.er 0}ttilnoi......

.

,wlry

', 1':; ''ii , ' '"'':"i rmliqhtnph, polc

.

why arc blown fusec makb tho llving cold like going up and aeking you to wire my heart
gets ridiculous to orua yourslf a memory makes you think yor can't do without s<xno soft of symbols . hungny

wtry

it

tnfflc lights
the p.gos of her body
that....r...,..

blology

thing liko

it

hot erorod bunr rJro uv on elongltcd whoolt

i
i

THE ZOOKEEPER'S STORY the zookeeper spends all his time on chocolates and carnations for his lady in the city after work , his lady nods at midday in the sun in the park
eating sausage sandwiches with pickles it's august hot and cold , and pretty soon the zookeeper wil! want to know her answer so she is smiling in her knowledge with sandwiches and the zookeeper is anxious between two giraffes will she won't she will she won't she will she be my wife

l;'
f,r
1

,1. 'i

J'JOPLIN J'HENDRIX L'BRUCE B'JONES R'FARINA N'CASSADY

the words of our names have been dropped and broken. we did it or.rrcelves / our tongues were swollen , too heavy

with speech.................
our tables and chairs are on the way home disguised as furniture , somebody else's

at exactly 12.23 p.m. dashing dan the photographer snapped the lady's vision she has never been the same or eaten sausage sandwiches agin the zookeeper went directly to iaal for fifty six unpaid florist invoices he spends all his time there .

our bodies have turned.............

i have taken the house and painted it yellow ,

my disneyland eyes are guarding the walls

have invented a world called motorbike blue

,

where nobody needs where nobody dies ,

wer , really .

l"
I

KOMIK POLITIK
Demonstrations

UNDERSTAND

should be expressions of

frustrations/S H

lT

are comic politics like

televised nationallly

richard nixon as daffy duck with a name like dingle dick are they provotariat chickens in flash gorton's lacn I

for barbara who lives in the forest

for radio

serialised

if you turn to judy garland you are exaggerating the sounds you sing to yourself if i turn to antonin artaud with boobs and cunt i am dishonest with my medicines
way up on an otis elevator in the blind musicians gatlery i saw elvis on a motorcycle and you and me in a plumbutter jar

something like being on tho same WAVELENGTH for some time rapunzel in government houce letting down her hair letting otl I STEAM

blows his avante gnrde and brings the meetings down Hanoi Hannah rolls over in

the phantom poet / FALLING crashing to the floor in broken words / he almost

the graveyard

/ SCREAM / a barricade

POEM ALIVE

NO SONGS FOR THIRTEEN WEEKS

'and now denver is lonely for her hero'

a.ginsberg

/ STRANGE

for i. &

m.mrannell

no songs for thirteen weeks the complainants forced into whisper by a droning silence their words are drawn , tired floating on a sneaking breeze

we have seen the puPPet show

and do not hurrY any moro......
washing the dirt from the stow....... shaping the sable hair la$|ight..........

making the dot after dot bsfore dot 1in8........

/ RAT LANDS / sleepins hero / HOWL for the secret cry

AUTOMATIC looking way up into the sky above the gneen tower they describe sunset orange

RAILWAY

put out the starc body drowned / Benzedrine./ Tequila.

CASSADY IS DEAD
sea

light that's born on neither land nor

he does not.

nurryanymors

newsF LASHvideo

Tonight

a thousand female Memories have occupied the auditorium to honour some otd magics
/one or two cameras manipulating the image . a boxy brownie . what a Memory one of the ladies sells secondhand counting pins ,
gains 3ome speed

THE MONTH OF THE PERSEIDS

bombed saturdays

unsheltred and wandering at tho back of tho moon 93mlllion miler from the
orangs llghtycr mptdec seen single eyed , unaided .

flrc

and colours in her outlook

'Biographytewe want Biognaphy!, scream the Memories . 'Pretense!' scr@ms the Mime

a meteorac.showgr

:-

'you need MEI you want MEI' the dress circle is shrieking
,SAY SOMETHING VALIDIT'

schizophrenic Venus appearing alternately as ths morning

and the evening STfrR

o.[. o.k. o.k. the Mime is crying now o,k. then 'reality is the past......,..

POEM

/ LITTLE BREECHES

$e

little breccfieg urfildchd hcr gunbrlt and let lt drop doun on a stack of natioml grognphlcr puttiru a fingr to hcr ncc

said "gflmmr a randudch with cream choso and jam "

STRAIGHT ALL THE TENGTH OF ME LONG bclcony boW motherlng ilrelr moton

rho tooft out r'rotl of tape rnd stuck the nndrvic-tr ovr the hols in thc rrly koolo ovct door

did ,hat t r big thick sndwldr

arkle rcx

& polka
.

dotr

:'

we

blew a foint wlrich gpt m. vry frfirtcncd

7Cl totovuslr merdrlng b?dffirO up lygpn trost .

of thir wcld lady

wtro lopot rlong bootfiootod $ootln lt up . mrkln a rud<nt .

ttlt;,

l.t
!.1

poems by pamela

ib brown

cover by maurits escher printed by pat woolley

tomato

press
.

11251 beaconsfield parade

middle park melbourne