stuff by jg including text and voices. fragments recorded abroad.
mixed at home. texts written in usti nad labem and prague.
it's a garden that turns into
a suitcase one arrives at
by a very tall bus inside the asteroid
which is the earth itself
propelled by a magnetic pebble
jiggled in the orgasm
of a marauding star fixed
in a stable void leaving one
leg aside more than enough
the one next door the girl
she washes her hair maybe
with a bird on the window sill
sending one stutter of peeps
into the rain...
smoke blooms on the hill
streets are filled with busy factories
trying to find new jobs
for themselves in the gloom
perfect fire hardens
in this handful of watery ash
goats elected to be coffee cups
share a cabbie for lunch
leaving a carburetor on the floor
of bee-hive sector 109
a few stops down
a few steps down the street I mean
they set up yet another
revolutionary cafe idea
(extempore words)
the women wander along
the trash-strewn streets
and one says, look!
is that some water over there?
the other says maybe it is
oh, we're both in luck then
it takes 3 kings to make a man
(it's your thing, do what you want to do)
