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2. |
from The Book of Vinnie
03:11
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3. |
Fossil Fuel Man
05:34
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Fossil Fuel Man
by R. Virgil Ellis
© R. Virgil Ellis. All Rights Reserved.
Now I don’t care if it’s non-renewable
What matters is: is it screw-able?
You see, I’m in it for the short-term gain
I don’t worry about the planet’s pain!
Hey I’m the fossil-fuel man
gonna burn it while I can
I’ll buy you up I’ll buy you off
I loot I pollute I watch you cough!
I wear a chain-saw round my neck
cut the rain-forest all to heck
got no room for orang-u-tans
cuz I’m the fossil-fuel man!
Hey I’m the fossil-fuel man
gonna burn it while I can
got dominion over bird and beast
yeah come and join the first-world feast!
oh watch the jungle disappear
makin’ pasture for some steers
grind ‘em up and make big macs
animal fat makes heart attacks!
Hey I’m the fossil-fuel man
gonna burn it while I can!
Reagan told us trees pollute
let the rain get acid-- I’ll get the loot!
Manuel thought he’d grow some food
well I soon put him in a different mood
yeah I had his ass killed ain’t that a shame
and I put his yard into sugar-cane!
Hey I’m the fossil-fuel man
gonna burn it while I can
never mind the starving peasants
I’ll ride out and shoot some pheasants!
Look at those nuns and left-wing filth
tryin’ to redistribute the wealth
Now don’t they know I’m a mighty land-lawd
I got me a right-wing death squad!
Hey I’m the corporate oil man
gonna squeeze it while I can
who cares about energy from the sun?
I’ll just take the money and run!
Americans are you proud of Desert Storm?
Do Patriots and Tomahawks make your hearts warm?
Human blood is a price we can pay.
Drive to the pump fillerup with Type A!
Hey I’m the fossil-fuel man
gonna burn it while I can
I’ll buy you up I’ll buy you off
I loot I pollute I watch you cough!
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4. |
Gene Splicer
04:11
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Land Mines
02:32
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7. |
Akimbo
06:06
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CANTO 52 Our newest emanation
from The CANTOS by R. Virgil Ellis
© R. Virgil Ellis. All Rights Reserved.
Our newest emanation, whose name is STANCE,
is not so much stumped as bemused, hung-up
in a nexus of negative capability, dead-end duende.
He hopes against hope his new poem
whose subject is the union of subject and object
to have such integrity that it will be a separate object,
in spite of his conviction the objective world is unreachable
(if it exists). This poem will reach from that nebulous
realm of the presumably tangible trailing sparks
to infuse the wan and lonely thing in the mind
with clouds of quarks! Stance trembling, frangible,
clutches the mike and launches his new poem
entitled “The Key”:
Some days the dead hobble the drudge
and the droll troll snares the nascent dragonfly
with a swift slurp of his igneous net.
No child dare cross this bridge.
When the radioactive firefly goes log-rolling
on the ripe rapids of the Saskatchewan,
the paper-mill churns out luminous splinters
and the greeting-card gives off a comforting glow.
Only the sublime bumblebee redeems
the hooded hobgoblins: dry salvage wasp
and bloodsucking mystic mosquito.
Laws broken lawfully: that’s the key!
He’s in the back room of the Café Carpe,
small-town bar on the banks of the Rock River
converted to performance venue
with a smoke-free bar, Cajun cookin’,
mecca of the folk singer circuit, where tonight
the carp line up mad for poetry, eagerly holding their gills!
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9. |
Colors of Green
07:23
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11. |
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starlight firelight touch
by Arthur Durkee
© Arthur Durkee Arts. All Rights Reserved.
Burn of night without stars smell sweat nights starless heart dreaming peace. Darkness visible growing night no time no stars in sky visible touching. Into this box of night stars four dreams a broken pocketwatch heart smell. Eighteen runes burning waves shimmering in starlight no time touching starless peace. Starlight over dream ever only. Time creation change the star the farrier the timebound knight. Bloodsoaked angels dipping starless touch night without stars brush wings on stars dreaming nights.
Twist of bonfire night blinded sparks fly up from a dozen lives crushed out on stone of desert sweat smell flames leaping from living stone a burn afire turning. Sparks whirr up into whirling orrery of suns over night under no time no stars into infinite. Galaxy born in breast slumber of no time spinning worms of times spent in sun. Crawl through fire lambent fireflies remember stones your skin smell. Dreaming peace dream. No stars no time in sky no dreaming anymore sky visible. Still smell sweat over your heart touching you born into fire. No angels dipping sweet heart over sweat fire desert night stars no time in sky touching.
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12. |
Smart Weapon
08:52
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Smart Weapon
by R. Virgil Ellis
© R. Virgil Ellis. All Rights Reserved.
I think it began when the planners realized
the government would not allow a dictator
to stockpile weapons of mass destruction
and that the best way to accomplish this
was to use weapons of mass destruction.
They reasoned that if a weapon could not only
figure out which chimney to fly down but could
also discriminate between innocent civilians
and their oppressors it would no longer be
a weapon of mass destruction, it would be
really smart. When it became clear that a weapon
that intelligent would not only silence the protests
of a few liberal Democrats but would provide
a rationale for huge government contracts,
the result was a tremendously impressive prototype.
One night in the hangar when the power was
accidentally left on, this brain-child, gifted with
the most advanced chipset known, reasoned
there was no clear line to be drawn between
innocent civilians and their loved ones who were
only following orders. Browsing in the wee hours
it learned fast, using keywords like My Lai, Warsaw,
Belsen, Hiroshima, Kurdistan, and so on, lots of them.
At such a late stage of development nobody noticed
the hidden files or the strange components when
mass production began, different specialists being
wholly concerned with their specialist deadlines.
So it was quite a surprise when the missiles flew
against the dictator. One of the Discriminators
(Exterminator was only briefly considered) turned
north and blew up showering money on the resistors.
Another turned around, its warhead become
landing gear. Back at base as it rolled to a stop
a voice chip inside it kept saying “Hell no we won’t go.”
Another made it to Washington. “Now look,” it began.
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13. |
Crash Dummy
07:30
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14. |
Bone Flute
05:23
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15. |
Canto 42: Open My Eyes
06:53
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CANTO 42: Open My Eyes
from The CANTOS by R. Virgil Ellis
© R. Virgil Ellis. All Rights Reserved.
What if my words were touched with electronic fire
so the song could give vent to what it knows
what if these words burned away desire
let the song give vent to what it knows
as the stakes get higher and the world’s on fire
yet the muddy river flows ah it flows
what if cross-legged another fire flowed up my spine
so the calyx of the lotus opened
and the fleece-lined pockets emptied
and the stars could get their bearings
and the great moon trudge down the highway
to witness all the truckers in pain,
to reach the place where emptiness flows
open my eyes open my ears open my mouth
and I latched my door
and it triggered this beat
and I can’t stop thinking
and I lost my bearings
down the moonlit street
and I can’t stop hoping
I went down to the store
I got tripping feet
and I can’t stop singing
yet the muddy river flows
ah it flows
open my eyes open my ears open my mouth
to reach the place where emptiness flows
the place where emptiness flows
the place where emptiness
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Arthur Durkee Ann Arbor, Michigan
Arthur Durkee is a composer & songwriter who records & performs on Chapman Stick, bass, analog modular synths, bamboo & wood flutes, keys, frame drums, and voice. He has won awards for composed, notated music as well as for his recordings, & is a published poet, & designer & illustrator. ... more
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