Bass Sol Take V: Hey What happened to the first 4 takes man? Well...

Bass Solo Take V

Extinguish flames from exhaust pipes
Smash horizontal mannequins right
Between the eyes when they refuse
To come home with you and submit
To your wildest fantastical whims.
Take the blowtorch out of the garage
And some clay and multicolored paint;
You are tired of others telling you
How people should be and want to
Construct your own Pinocchio, Cyborg,
Human being out of its silent wooden pieces,
Until there is a glimmer in its eye
You’ve never seen before.
And then, just when it seems ready to
Speak, move its arms, ask you for your name,
You plug in your saw and start to saw as it
Screams, cries and bleeds chips, as if it just
Learned how to, until it is a silent
Pile of dust, and you are in its way again
While its remains blow in the wind,
Your Frankenstein monster…

by Micah Zevin 2010

Meditations on Past Situations....a crazy hellyeah yeehaw to everyone!

On the mountain

The crows gnaw on my knuckles because they smell
Like Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and I’m wearing boxers
As I rock in my imaginary chair while I mull over my metropolis
The boy smoking pot over trashcan fires is staring at me
As if to test my mettle…

Bloated as a wild boar I snort at him until he offers me some,
Addressing me as ‘old dude’ as I sit on newly painted park benches
Where I went to escape oozy’s blasts of water, boomerang Frisbees
That hit me in the noggin, or the onslaught of acorns when I was in
Elementary school and it was recess.

I ask this boy as he smokes a “doobie’ why he isn’t in school,
I see the school principal and quickly tell him to hide under
The park bench so that he doesn’t get caught. “Is that you Jerome.?”
She asks, as I rise…”No,” I say, “It’s me George…
Do you remember me?”

Even basketballs would give me concussions until I developed speed
After being on the track team for a while. Now, sometimes, I am slow,
Even doddering sentimental ‘numb nut,’ as the crows point at me, laugh and eat what’s left of a dead squirrel,
Even its bushy tale.

I remind myself there is no such thing as an “Age of Innocence,”
Only moments in time where wicked sites and sounds
Attach themselves to throats like honey
And bare fruit…

by Micah Zevin 2009

Off The Cuff? Guns at Star*******

Unfiltered

I took out my gun in starbucks. It's time
To hunt some latte drinking smucks or should i with holster by my side join in for a muffin and a conversation about literature, diversity, controversy oh no not me! I am just practicing my right to bear arms then no one will question
My charms. Oh my precious why is the world so viscious forever testing my mettle. I dream of bloody rose petals and your silver gods killing my dinner
Maybe a yuppie or two,just kidding, how can I get you to do my bidding? I can look right down yr barrel without fear encountering those different from myself. I am poltically correct to a fault. Instead of commenting on your race or religion I call u a communist a socialist liberal devil and leave other judgements to the heavens...

Micah Zevin 2010