Friday, December 5, 2008

In Country

Gabby
I screamed out for you
Under
A blood burning moon
And all I
Could see was mortar rounds
Cutting
Into opulent stars
Exposed fat drooled out
From my mouth shaped wound
And flowed in the paddies all ready stained
In Quang Tri provincial, Indian Country rain
Mixture creating ambush manure
For a brown rice stronghold, Viet Cong owned home
Methodically the medic snaked to my side
Put his hand to my face, put an end to my voice
“Stop screaming, Chief. It’s just a fucking scratch.”

But I was leaking electricity
through my ribcage. Field dressing swells
like punji snake infection in a pond of spring
Engorged by the form of the melted plains
With a furious desire to deedee open holes
Gashed in the country by our C.O.’s
They hide what blooms abject and naked
Their fingers in my flesh now awakened

Thursday, November 27, 2008

Famous in the underground

We're back live. With special guests, explosions (figuratively, maybe), Akon, Damian "Pink Eyes" Abraham of Fucked Up, and as always, the entire Chitwood family: Lelen, Gabriella, Tommy (in disembodied form), and Jimmy. Plus, Springsteen is stopping by for a warm up on his way to the Super Bowl.

December 6th: the Living Room

December 18: Dry River

Friday, November 7, 2008

"Ever Since Nebraska" Lyrics

4th of July

Lelen's father disappeared
October 4 1968
This was a fact he knew very well
In the same way
He knew his height his age and his weight
And how many baby teeth were left in his face
Jimmy told the stories on the 4th of July
Weeks before harvest came
Over a quart of whiskey
And under a sheet of fireflies and thunder
Dreaming as the wheat reached towards the sky
in the Nebraskan dusk

Out along the road in these dreams
They all took a long walk into the west
His uncle and father spoke of the east
Of the strangest harvest they had ever seen
Paddy dikes the moon half-obscured
They mortared the light, but instead hit the clouds
Baby spiders rained down like black embers
Like fireworks spiraling out of control

My first born, my first born son
On that night we let you down
We shot full our own kind
Leaving the echoes far behind

Dad I want you to know it's ok to let it go
I used to think I could make you
Appear as if you'd want me to
For a birthday I asked for a globe
Took a marker and drew a line
From one x to the next from the east back to the west
Saying poppa take this way home
I thought that you should know
Momma is dying slow
Smoking everything until you show
I can't hold on to her
Her wrinkles are rivers wide
So I run off to hide
Before the thrashers come in to sight

Out along the road in the evening echoes
Stick to young feet like gravel
Out along the road in the evening
Echoes stick to wheelchairs
Lelen pushed his father's wheelchair
Into the bright horizon
Fireworks spiraling from the sky to the road
A make believe 4th of july
Was dancing right in front of their eyes
The echoes of the knots unraveled
Were his father's empty thighs

Out along the road in the evening echoes
Stick to young feet like gravel
Out along the road in the evening
Echoes stick to young feet
And so they stopped and rested
Nearly every rise
Between hedges of corn
In the shade of the combine
And so some days he would pray
In nearly every way, in nearly every place
But this one

Out along the road

On the 4th of July
He just couldn’t find
On the 4th of July
His legs

On the 4th of july the 4th of july
He still couldn’t find his father’s legs
On the 4th of july the 4th of july
Fireworks for echoes of lost time
On the 4th of july the 4th of july
The knots unravel a long goodbye

This American harvest an idyll daydream
To Make a legless martyr run home to me
Does violence to the memory of the only dad I had
And now I hear the thrashers coming to put us all to bed








Breathe It Out

My mind must stay here
Leave with these ghosts
These prayers breathe out

The double dream of spring awake
It’s stitched up soul, opened spoke

Jimmy owned a farm on the prairie
Below Window Rock where the fields bloomed full
Jimmy owned a farm on the prairie
Below Window Rock where the fields

Jimmy owned a farm on the prairie
Below Window Rock where the fields bloomed full
Of soot and rhodendrons
Explosions in the star dusted valley
Exposed his face just like a pallet
Painting portraits of naked ghosts
Dripping like raindrops off fenceposts
We ate the blossoms of the stars
And we beat the voice of his dusted drums
“Syncopates beat mosaics
the double dream of spring awaken
Narrating a breathing wound
His stitched up soul opened and spoke

“And if I never get us home
this will be the end of the road
You road the railway here
But it doesn’t leave
It just snakes its way
Back to the mines
We’ve been buried under uranium
You’d drink as much as us
If you pissed toxic waste
I’ve lived my life like a drunk in shards
Like a man split open by his home
I watched my Dad become a drunk in shards
Like a man split open by his home.
I watched my Dad become a drunk in shards
Like a man split open by the road.”

But in the end
We don’t die
Like our fathers
On a long walk

(Breathe it out and they bloom removing doubt now)

My mind must stay here
Live with these ghosts
These prayers breathe out

(Breathe it out and they bloom removing doubt)





KAYENTA

Outside in the pouring rain Gabby’s son left today
Outside in the pouring rain the old Calypso walked without shame
Her boots caked in pink she chain smoked her Winstons
Following the highway back to the little gorge
The sandy paws of her three legged dog
Who carried a pouch with a knife and some rum
Till a highway patrolman pulled up alongside her
Looking for a taste of the salty sweat on her lips
She saw the look in his eyes
Said, “I’m not a donkey you can rent to ride
To the canyon floor, but my feet are sore, can you take me to my store?”
When they got to her shack he put his gun to her face
pulled off her shirt and tried to lap up her scent
His sweat yellowed her blouse with the musk of fate
He breathed in to her, as Kayenta rushed out
She looked to her dog, he came to her side and she reached in his pouch
To pull out a knife
She shook the man loose with the rage of a thrasher
And reached down between his quivering legs

And she said…

My name is Gabriella, and I’m from Kayenta
And it’s time the animal in me stood up.

It’s been a long walk, a long, dream, a long harvest of memory,
A long life of carving these wooden figurines
Tommy left me back in 1968 with a pearl handled knife and a stomach full
Of himself his only wealth
He kissed my cheek and painted a sign reading “Dinosaur Tracks On Your Right.”
And if I cried it was cause I laughed so hard
Lelen was born three months later in a tent
My mother called it a home after my father left
And then one day it up and blew away some government came our way
And people would say, “Gabby went and got saved.”
But even with my dentures in Lelen never heard me when
I told him where his father went
And that ceremony’s not a sin
So when he walked to the bus today looking for gold
To buy back my home
I think he saw the road ahead of moving snakes and his father’s face
Reflected in their shedding skins
But, said “Momma stop worrying. I’m gonna climb a ladder from your attic door
out of this gorge.”


In to and out of me
You forced your way

It’s not ok with me
To live when you want me to
To heal how you say I should
Out of my home

I want you to know
What it felt like inside of my
As I gave birth for him
While you just gave away

Dentures like a fucking
Because you shipped me home a box
Full of parts without a head
Pension for my voice

His legs for conveniency
His arms to the V.C.
His neck for a lottery
Out of my home

(Out of my home)

Mr State Trooper
I could just who you were
Ever since Nebraska
You’ve been coming for me
But I have survived
On these nickels and dimes
Not asked for anything more
So get out of my home
Before I carve out your seed
Feed it back to my dog
Just like you’d do to me

(Out of my home…)

Monday, August 25, 2008

Kayenta (the animal in her)

Outside in the pouring rain
the old calypso died of shame

My names is gabriella and i'm from kayenta
and it's time the animal in me spoke up

...and later

it's been a long walk a long dream
a long harvest of memory
but when you left me baby
the dinosaur tracks were still fresh
as the ink on your sign, the arrow
pointing in my direction

4th of july Draft

(on the) 4th of July

Lelen’s father lost both his legs
October 4 1968
This was a fact he knew very well
In the same way
He knew his height his age and his weight
And how many baby teeth were left in his face
Jimmy told the stories on the 4th of July
Weeks before harvest came
When the wheat touched the sky
Over a quart of whiskey
And under a sheet of fireflies
Dreaming in the Nebraskan dusk
Asleep before the dark

Out along the road in these dreams
They all took a long walk into the west
Pastoral plentitude on a cambodian breeze
But jimmy stayed behind and let lelen lead

Cresting the hill towards a bright horizon
Fireworks spiraling out of control
residue swirling left smoking
holes in their smiling faces

Out along the road in the evening echoes
Stick to young feet like gravel
Out along the road in the evening
Echoes stick to wheelchairs

Lelen pushed his father’s wheelchair
Into the bright horizon
Fireworks spiraling from the sky to the road
A make believe 4th of july
Was dancing right in front of their eyes
The echoes of the knots unraveled
Were his father’s empty shriveled thighs

Out along the road in the evening echoes
Stick to young feet like gravel
Out along the road in the evening
Echoes halt wheelchairs
And so they stopped and rested
Nearly every rise
Between hedges of corn
In the shade of the combine
And so some days he would pray
In nearly every way, in nearly every place
But this one

Because on this fourth of july
On this fourth of july
On this fourth of july

He still couldn’t find his father’s legs

On the 4th of july the 4th of july
Tommy chitwood drinks to the sky
On the 4th of july the 4th of july
He watches waking life memorialized
On the 4th of july the 4th of july
Son still drains the piss bag on father’s thigh