slower than my mind
faster than my feet
careful with that axe
a dirge on guitar players
but Froggy was more mandolin
or was that maudlin
since his wife was maude
or was she mad
mad as a madwoman
scattering her manure
searching for
the complimentary
roll of paper
crying, oh no
not the single ply again
or was that Ginsberg
running with his pants down
to deliver melted butter
about four grapes ago
before they went sour

groovy are the maids
pasco and kickapoo
roosting in my clothes
by the time goodwill
sorted them out
some carny guy was
decked in the duds
of a fantastic universe
where whatever
he was doing
was right
and he was winning
he was riding a wave
 that had not only broken
but had rolled back
like a tsunami with
even more force
more ebb and more flow
he taught about mayhem
while playing
the national anthem
with a didgeridoo
and selling lemonades
as the vision fades
to a dive in gumbo roux
some deep ju ju 

But who's that happy Skypilot...waving like a smiling vegetable...all the way from the Lost Creek Valley...waving at Mike Meoff, the Friendly dispatcher and his brother Jack in a straight jacket...this ain't Uranus, he's style'n, liv'n like a lot lizard in a trailer at the cab company, wax'n the weasel, flog'n the dog, spank'n the monkey, paddle'n the dolphin, whip'n Willie, lope'n the mule...waving at Snoop and the Peanut Police Police, for magic can happen if you believe...waving at Wadean and Marlene, more Friendly dispatchers...waving at Mr. Pinky, cause I'm his friend today, waving at Brad and Michaela and the Antioch church of anti-christ, waving at the world, wait, I am the world sometimes, when I ain't busy being Mr. Right all the time. Waving at the masters of chaos and confusion. Waving at Po and LaLa and Tinky Winky and that other guy. Waving all jackarandy at Knotheads and Boneheads and Skypilots and people everywhere...but alas and alack and aladdie, it's back to the Cash Cab where they can ax me anything they want - Did I blow (the horn)?- then they have to pay me!

Flying Tiger,
Skypilot #123, Loyd

 the state of the empire
is a climb up
the social ladder
how high can you go
the sunlight dissuades
errant panty raids
in the sylvan glades
daft but deep
barely expressed
slender and silver
left awash in the wake
of redwood and jakes
baking the cakes
she ate my egg roll
cold turkey and then
called me baby doll
a compliment to men

 statesmen are arguing
until the daffodils bloomed
and Gabriel threw down
his mojo on my satchel
and blew up his horn
or as they say in Hades
Styx 'n stones go
well with chinese
what direction
do you peek
when you geek
 two baboons
on the railing
stole the show
I couldn't ask for mo
no one makes
a monkey out of me
I wake up
and I'm a chimpanzee
barking up the wrong tree
better'n treeing
up the wrong bark

 two grapes in the head
trump one in the bush
another pitcher's lob
hits the bat on the knob
a turn in the barrel
is part of the job
lighten your loads
follow the Joads
we're not dumbsters
we know what to do
we bust ass fully
enjoy life wooly
we don't struggle
when we snuggle
 splash through space
everything in place
nose full of water
mouth blowing bubbles
message is gargled
what's the rush
there's always more
is profess'd in jest
it's the revolution test
with better kool aid
than all the rest
put that in your pipe
and hie to the fest


photos by Greg Webb