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Copyright Jordan Davis.


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wFriday, April 28, 2006



The elder Johnston moved the piano.
The brothers Johnson brought their toys and guitars
And a few strategically placed lava lamps,
Waved their magic fingers at
The magazine's publisher, a silver-ponytailed
Garage-rock godhead -- licensed and bonded
And all that stuff.

The Horseshoe employed more people
On an employee-per-room basis
Than any effectively mellow personal-swimming-pool
Success Secret sharer in the metro area

And this would influence the American art world
To pursue hypnotizing the audience, a scotch and soda
In standing room only with lots of press when Bruce took the podium

"What I love about the chat rooms
Is that they're already halfway to poetry,
What's poetry but lines, what's a chatroom,"
He started rubbing the squid. Somebody tried
To take the squid. Derek emphasized that
Even on that day, in that room
In the small Bavarian village of Ulm,
The reserved Rasputin tendencies of the great philosopher
Were waiting to come out, an opera star
Who it turned out could read neither music nor text.

posted by Jordan #