Harold Carr

beedee

    It's your daybe!

    Remember when we were young
    & we could be anyone
    we wanted to be?
    
    Now it's your daybe
    & we are who we are.
    
    Remember when we ran down mountains
    like Japhy Ryder (aka Gary Snyder)
    in Kerouac's _the Dharma Bums_?
    
    It's you daybe
    & we're still standing!
    
    Remember the loud concerts
    at the Terrace Ballroom?
    
    Well, it's your daybe
    & it's gone
    & a whisper will do.
    
    It's your daybe
    so let's all jump up
    & kick our heels together.
    
    Remember unending snow
    when we walked in tshirts?
    
    Now winter rain on your daybe.
    
    It's your daybe.  Sleep in
    slip dish dash down
    sh sh shh
    sure fit fine fancy
    
    so long the time tick tocks
    & we haven't even mentioned music
    
    drum drum drum---drum drum
    drum drum drum---drum drum
    drum drum drum---drum drum
    drum drum drum---drum drum
    
    all on your fine
    fit tick damn daybe!
    
    dance sing sit---drum drum
    dance sing sit---drum drum
    dance sing sit---drum drum
    
    may your days be
    long & on & on
    long & on & on
    long & on & on
    
    It's your daybe, for Christ's sake.
    Remember? ...

--- for Steve & Vicky Williams

burn

          you sleep
            because you don't
      have the guts
        to fight it

           night comes
    and you think
       we must obey it

             why fight
     when it's enough
         to set it on fire

--- for Jean Daive

Millcreek---Elbow to Terrace


more pictures...

the 4th of July

men
working in ditches
below the surface of the road women
working the

safety flags

the day before the

fourth of July

flags flying already
little orange ones marking
the new sprinkling system

the system seems or seemed
to work the system
of the fourth flags
still flying
the traffic lights

work too another
part of the
system or the fact

that we don’t kill
each other when we
meet unknown

lecture on music


more pictures...

       for/by Phillip Bimstein

tick
    by
    tick the
clock uses
time

while the story
of songs is
told

at one

place about
another

his words
about another's

      harmonica

turned into song
like you like to do it
take the wheat down
the way we did it
about as much out
as it is in

      baseball

the voice of one man
selling beer for forty
years

      guitar

an
active
participant
in the tick

spruce top maple
sides & back
steel
strings

      ghosts

her words his
words
two young girls
back & forth
kill on a busted swing
    (forever)
---that deserves a song

      moo

history into story
   ---an accident
the cows won't speak

      detention

but

kids

in jail

have plenty to
say

      quilts

now
spinning on track four
pretty quilts

on the
line
called the sheriff
red lights flashing down
at the junction all
I want is my
money

      mulberry

meanwhile, back in
town, after the first
hard frost, the leaves
in mounds on the
ground---gone
no place for trees
anymore

      frogs

slowed way down
like rocks
like melody
in water

      rancher rap

sample
splice
sing
loop
strum
strike

echo imitate bow