....And in October Boring as this may be The leaves crunch like candy wrappers We got at parades Where we sat on the sidelines Picking candy out of the leaves And throwing the leaves At someone's pretty red car And dancing to horrible marching bands With horrible drummers And having holes in our stomaches And wanting to stare too much And learning to hate people I keep wanting to love you but...
Sometimes radio sound is enough Mixed with the engine of my car, My missing muffler, The little glitter stars my wipers wipe away Like tears from my windshield In the reflection of some other cars light; To dream up the day that I just had To quietly relive its moments Not to love them, just to figure them out And to dream up the world as I’ll have it be As I try day to day to create it more creative And more as it should be, less bastardized and stolen A silent revolution All this looks good in headlights And radio sounds are enough to keep it going. Sometimes I don’t want to hear your accounts Of trivia and lives and computer games And so I don’t listen, I shrug you off, I steer the car with the curves in the road And watch it light up signs and trees I don’t hear what you’re saying as you’re Talking- excitedly, constantly Because I’m living my own poetry Not because I don’t love you.
Every weekend i drive home from school- just me in my Jeep on Mulberry Street- i sing a tune about my feet- just me, with Dar Williams in the passenger seat
But oh no, not just Dar- that’s fun, but there’s more- why have just one great singer- when i can have four- Courtney Love and Patti Smith- i’ll add my angel Stevie Nicks- their voices rise in laughter sweet- as we ride in my Jeep down Mulberry Street
Sarah McLauchlin what’s blind cannot see- i also must add wild Melissa E.- Natalie Merchant oh isn’t life sweet- as we ride in my hippie van down Mulberry Street
A van’s much too small, it’s too small it seems- to accommodate miles of laughter and dreams- and the October air it was meant to breathe- as Mulberry Street just like a small stream runs into a street that is harder by far- to travel along in a big hippie car- we’ll need a horse and wagon- with big wagon wheels- but horses, you know- are apt to get ills- so we’ll get a tractor- to pull us through fields- and as tractors don’t go- by themselves and be merry- we must have a driver- so we’ll get Bill Berry- and that is a sight that is just way too neat- turning into the hayfields from Mulberry Street
The sun it will set, the sky fade from blue- And we will include the Indigo two- the moon it will rise and Bette Midler’s to blame- but we’ll go “moonlight dancing” all just the same
Shirley Manson can’t be far- but that’s only when traveling by car- the tractor we’ll have to abandon with ease- if we hope to go traveling past all these trees- we can’t ride a glump-kunk, we can’t harness bees- we’ll have to employ old Glumgumk McGees- and he is his Womdunk Mobile with it’s sprat- we’ll be able to avoid ever getting a flat- we’ll climb up the mountain and close to the moon- i’m afraid we won’t be home for lunch the next noon- But along come evening k.d. will sing- with Tracy Chapman and she will bring- Mary Chapin-Carpenter to dance her country dance- with a Chat in a Chapeau from Southern France- and life is not bitter and there is no end- and so Janis Joplin’s a welcomed friend
BUT WAIT, with all the sounds and the songs there must be someone to listen- so we’ll gather all the boys around and dance and the moon will glisten- with a big upright bass and a fiddler too, guitars and tamborines for me and for you- i’ll be the first to hold Michael’s hand and spin him around and won’t it be grand- with Mike Mills a’groovin and Peter a’jumpin and all of our footsteps a clippity clumpin- Thom Yorke the young lad who just turned 31- will peak our high levels of wonder and fun- and life is so grand we’re not apt to get hurt- so we’ll all welcome back our sweet darlin Kurt- Anthony Chad Dave AND John and Flea- oh lord if they’re here, mercy mercy me- Chris Cornell and Live and it’s better and better but it isn’t best without Eddie Vedder- John Denver, Bob Dylan now we’re all chillin and groovin along with Louis Armstrong- and Josh would want Frank there so there’s Frank Sinatra- my silly ol Josh, did you think i’d forgot ya?
We’re beyond heaven and nothing can save us- from the unholy wit of godblessed John Davis- with all these folks here i’d be abso-mutha-fuckin hurtin if i didn’t get to see abso-lutely Cliff Burton- Jason, Kirk, Lars, James- believe me if it’s all the same- we’re on some back porch with the blues- Eric Clapton we love you- Stevie Ray Vaughan, Ozzy, Fishbone too- and with the Eagles “One of these Nights” they’ll be acrobats, clowns and jugglers in tights- “tamborines and elephants” “lookin out my back door”- it’s as grand and as glorious as ever before- it’s laughter and wonder and i ought to know it- i’m the one went and picked up our dear poet- it’s sunflower Allen from 55 and he’s still so golden, bright & alive
Glenn Danzig, Dwight Yoakam, what an odd pair- but it wouldn’t be fabulous if they weren’t there- and just as we welcomed “teenagers from Mars” and Bono arrived “in the strangest of cars” --- My drive was most over, i looked at my house- and my cat Mills was there with a half-way dead mouse- and my mother she asked me “oh what did you see” and i answered “oh, nothing and no one but me”- on this long stretch of road with the radio- there’s never much telling “the places (i’ll) go”- it was only me, but really still sweet- even without a Jeep, and no Mulberry Street.
when my baby girl is walking to day care in the cold her eyes water and i wipe it away with my sleeve, i've dried tears off your baby's face, too, but grown-ups are different.-jennifer jo dooley
"why do these people in these starving countries keep having all these babies when they can't feed the ones they have?" "you can't give them food, food won't help, You have to TEACH them how to survive." And i'm thinking- that you can't teach even you to survive without food.-jennifer jo dooley