There is a song, a number by the quintessential L.A. band of the A.D. period (After The Doors, and ironically early albums were produced by Ray Manzarek.), called: X and it's rocking hard stuff mostly...a few rockabilly influences, but mostly strained singing and raw sound, that's good. Rock. Yeah! I won't even mention the fact that they got mixed up in some kind of "movement" way back then in the early 80's when folks thought of hair bands and such. Which may have "besmirched" their passing through to other things which would have happened, dammit, if not for being corralled with "that" munk mess. And that "music" was much different. The thing I refer to here is a line from one of their tunes: The World's A Mess, It's In Your Kiss.
For me, the world is a mess and probably always was and will be, but especially now, the events near/far/wide...and in my home here in Shell City. Flooring done. Wiring. Plumbing. MESS! The stuff of the house in these areas is all over the place. It smells of concrete sealer (Which requires 3 days of don't walk there!!!) then the cork, then the dark red (beyond burgundy) coloring wood pieces...it's going to make it loud in here, damnit! And it also smells of chuffed up dry wall. It's dusty with that fine white powder, oh well. (Paste now in your teeth. YES.)
There is no kiss. My storage place is closed and I'm slightly amiss. There's no place for the clothing I pulled out and then last night washed...days...days...they go by and thank goodness I got it all sorted out. Cleared out. NAMI MUN book signing appearance:
PLEASE BUY HER BOOK!
My goodness, why do I have any thing? I'm bereft of logic, thought, sense and it's amazing I still go forth. But press on I do.
The world's a mess and nothing is in your kiss. I'm amazed. I think I thought and I come and I go. Where am I now? So demonstrably enabled to...sit and cogitate but am unable it appears to make a dent in this place called: LIFE/THE WORLD, with any thing I do but get in trouble and on occasion make people laugh...and I do include my self in that equasion. I do laugh quite heartily from moment to moment in my daily routine...along with the cursings of things...talking out loud to pieces of soap, boxes I'm holding up to get put into the attic I don't know where...leaves that fall out of the net as I bend and stoop to gather up more into the holy bag attached to a pole, which is stuffed into the swimming pool again and again to clean. (Moon's Full. Air Is Dry and Blowing stuff every where.) It's life as I know it. The world's a mess and it's not in your kiss.