Andy Seven, former rock star/male model/bon vivant, the man with the action-packed expense account, the fabulous free-lance creator of stories and images is available for your entertainment NOW! on Blogger.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Pomes From Homes
The topxngx beach
We looked for the emptiest beach we could find It had a lagoon with cranes, pelicans, and noisy gulls She wore a flowery hat A tankini And a tiny umbrella that sat by her head The waves crashed quietly against the sky Surfer boys and girls were running into the waves Surfboards leashed to their suntanned ankles Pale skinned ladies marched by in their plus-size ross dress for less bathing suits A gypsy family rinsed their clothes in the water Kids splashed around While single mothers yelled at them Boys in bathing suits as long as skirts toddled by Their distended stomachs like a dead bloated monkfish I stood in the water the waves shifting rocks seaweed sea shells beer bottle caps up and down against my ankles the sea air smelled good when we got home we were red as lobsters I drank some Russian vodka took a pain killer and passed out dreaming about the ocean
john doe blow
there was this band that made a name for themselves singing about the plight of the working man and other welfare sob stories. they once complained to people my band was taking up space because we had no political views and played funny songs and dressed up funny. back then it was a bad (1978). self-righteous phonies. one night these working class heroes set a dumpster on fire and pushed it down the hill in the middle of the street a lot of people could have been killed, people on welfare and people not on welfare. they had to put their awful band back together again after the singer acted in a lot of terrible movies and showed what an awful actor he was. he has a ranch in montana. flaming rubbish begets flaming rubbish.
Suburban adam and eve
It was cool being sixteen years old And my girlfriend said, “I’m hungry – let’s eat” So she jumped over the backyard fence and I waited I heard her voice over the fence, “well come on” I jumped over the fence too She stood right by her neighbor’s peach tree She grabbed a peach and gave it to me She grabbed herself a peach too I bit into the peach The juice ran all over me She bit into her peach and stared at me Her warm, hungry brown eyes burning into mine This is the way it began And this is the way it continues Even in suburban culver city