i was surprised and saddened to read of the death of john phillip law on alex gildzen's blog last night. law was one of those golden boys best known from late 1960s european cult films, his most famous role is perhaps as the blind angel in roger vadim's classic barbarella.

below is the trailer for another well-known movie, mario bava's danger: diabolik, in which law plays the lead. i've not seen the flick but it's just been released to dvd in the u.s. i think either late last year or this year. just the same, the movie, as you can surmise from the trailer, has that groovy '60s score and campy, outre sets and costumes. and law is simply beautiful to behold.

it's hot in northern california. real hot. how hot? triple digits. the show in sf last night, crowded house at the fillmore, was fantastic. first time at the fillmore which dates back to the hippie era when the dead and jefferson airplane would perform in all their wild glory back in the day. more on that later perhaps, my impressions of the fillmore because it was my first time there.

however, it was hot in sf, a city known for its temperate clime. it was freaking hot, i mean close to 100 degrees f. and sf is a city without air conditioning. anna and i freaking roasted! everytime i went to the bar the bartender kept moaning about the heat. i told her i'm from sac, a city used to very hot weather in summer but at least we have air conditioning. i then asked, doesn't sf believe in air conditioning. that's when another employee said, no. no air conditiong and if i thought the building was hot i should've been there earlier that afternoon when not even the devil himself could've staunched the heat.

here a few things that seem to be poems in of themselves i witnessed standing in line on geary st in sf waiting for the doors to open for the show:

--beer bottle tossed thru the rear door of a muni bus during a regular stop

--middle-aged skate punk with a navy blue shirt with ALAMEDA COUNTY JAIL on the back pushing a street person in a wheelchair up to nearby liquor store and walking back down geary st with two cans of beer

--young woman eager to talk treating herself to the show as reward after a long grueling year at university who then was surprised that i recognized the name of her poet-professor

in short, it was a great evening. neil finn possesses one of the greatest voices in pop music. i got goose-bumps when he nearly closed the set with 'i fall at your feet'. i love that song.

living in the art


found the school of

poetics of

procrastination

only wish

sighn*


*has this poem already been written? it seems so familiar. it is a found text, at least i read it today clicking thru a drive-in theater website.

guess 2 days of delaminating did the trick. i've not had the strongest urge to write in a long time. i could spend 2 weeks doing nothing but i don't have the time for it. so 2 days and now i feel like sitting down and writing a chapbook worth of poems. or a couple of movie reviews or something. i suppose for me what i needed to do was change my thinking a bit. let go of my desires for well everything and soon those things find their way to me. does that make sense? i don't know but another way to look at it is to stop worrying and step into the now. oh shit, that sounds goofy too.

i'd think i need to articulate myself a bit better. but now it's almost time to make dinner. anna and i are heading to sf tomorrow to see crowded house at the fillmore. never been there before. i've been threatening jonathan hayes who lives in sf with a visit for months now but tomorrow ain't the time for it is date night for me and anna who rarely get a moment alone.

peace

surrealisms after watching la belle captive by alain robbe-grillet

magritte made the painting la belle captive so it would be filmed by a novelist

manet made the painting of an execution so it would be used in a film

trust just the head for the heart will lead thru a moebius strip

the head tho will get it wrong and you will find yourself on a moebius strip

alban berg made music just for this film

the woman is not dead is not a vampire is not a woman

the other woman is his boss is dressed in leather is driving the motorcycle at night is an icon

this is reality this is not real

thunder claps as if it knows the ending

this is not film is not pictorial novel is not painting is not score

the beach is not in uruguay it is in death

eroticism is not pornography it is the station that lead to the head and so the genitals

s&m imagery is not pornography too it is not it is

black shades black leather frilly blouse silver chrome

he is executed he is not dead

desire is obsession is the consummate searching

her body is found handcuffed in the street in the bed

he is obsessed with blood from neck bites sometimes there is no blood

he learns with some realities there is no end at all

late distant warning

A NEW REPORT ISSUED BY THE U.S. SURGEON GENERAL TODAY STATES QUITE PLAINLY THAT SITTING BEFORE A COMPUTER AND WRITING ALL DAY AND/OR ALL NIGHT IS A HEALTH HAZARD AND AN INDICATOR THAT THE ACTIVITY CALLED 'WRITING' ALONG WITH ITS SISTER ACTIVITY CALLED 'READING' COULD NEGATIVELY IMPACT THE USER'S SANITY*



*a prominent, unknown poet sd this about the report: yep, i knew it all along. it's too late for me. i knew i ws fucked the moment i even took a glimpse at the print of my daddy's newspaper long before they taught me to read.

i could have easily

been a monk
happy in my cell
simply reading & writing
with the occasional stroll

rather i'm acting
monk-like reading
watching tv without
speaking a word all day

[written today - 1:20 p.m. - while watching deadliest catch & clicking thru deep oakland]

okay, that's it; i'm fucking bummed. read in the paper yesterday that the county board of supervisors tabled their final decision on their development plans for the land that the sac 6 drive-ins sits on for may 14. the drive-ins have escaped the wrecking ball for the past 8 years but i think that this is the final curtain call for the venerable old theater. i've written about the place many times before so my love of drive-ins is i think well-known. and when the drive-in is gone that's it no more for sac or even northern california. my good friend b. and i plan to go to the drive-in this friday. it may be the last time.

* * *

but in other news, good news, philly poet ryan eckes started a blog. do check it out. eckes is one of the most exciting poets i know.

* * *

taking the week off for a much needed holiday. my plans are to have no plans. i'm gonna do a little writing, a little reading, a little movie watching, and a lot of delaminating.

* * *

speaking of movies i just watched for the 2nd time today, i don't know why i watched it twice but i did, the indie film seven and a match. i'd caught the last 15 minutes of it last year on ifc and because it features heather donahue whose most famous work is the horror flick the blair witch project i wanted to see if she's a good actor. she is. but seven is not really a good movie. an ensemble piece much like the big chill sans the nostalgia and for twenty-somethings the movie is about old college friends who have a weekend reunion at the summer home of their friend who still lives in the house and who also organized and set the action in motion.

now, we have the disparate cliched, yet goofy roles, such as the sensitive male, the gay guy, the letch and the person so miserable she can't help but make those around her miserable too. the actors are game and the only one i half-way recognized, other than donahue, was devon gummersall who played geeky, brainy brian krakow in the excellent, but short-lived tv series my so-called life. but here's the catch: the main character, the one who still lives in the beautiful seaside house in maine, ellie has an ulterior motive. since the house is in foreclosure, she inherited the house along with a mountain of debt when her parents died in a car accident, she discovered that the insurance is worth much more than the house. so ellie asks her friends to help her commit arson.

i don't believe it. even in this depressed housing marking a coastal maine house with lots of woodland surrounding it would be worth a lot. i think. in california a house like that would be worth millions and selling it would be fairly easy. i don't know what the housing market is like in maine but the movie was released in '03, the height of the housing bubble, and i figure ellie could at least get a half mil out of it. but then there would go the plot and the movie would end up just like the big chill. and that movie was boring!

instead we have a group of friends who've grown apart thru the years but not grown up very much. but then how could they when they are only in their late twenties. despite their relative naivete, after all what does grown up really mean anyway, i mean i know people in their 50s who still haven't figured out what they want to be when they grow up, the seven friends renew their bonds and are for the most part likable.

the main thing for me is that the movie lacks nostalgia that makes a film like the big chill kind of icky. the characters' neuroses match their types and even if there is little depth to their roles they do their best. the photography is mostly gorgeous which is helped out by filming coastal maine in the fall. the direction is both harried and leisurely. this film is the only one i think by director derek simonds who also wrote and performed most of the indie-rock style songs for the sound-track. the music matches the movie just so. not that that is good but it is a good effort with the occasional moment of genuine love.

on the subject of higher education

in the steve martin vehicle l.a. story which is a lark about l.a. being a magical place martin portrays a lonely wacky tv weather man

when martin plies his trade as a comedian-meteorologist the anchors laugh uproariously when the cameras are on

in this segment after martin's schtick one of the anchors says, i've heard you have an advanced degree

martin turns serious and replies, yes; i have a phd in art history

a lot of good it did you, the anchor finishes

lisa, lisa

after the 2 middle-aged goombas wearing suits
[tarantino probably got the idea
for the natty dressed thugs for resevoir dogs from watching this]
killed 2 men along with their young sidekick with so much
hair and beard from a distance i almost called out yeti
went on a psycho killing spree because on the run
from the law they hide out at psycho lisa's farm
a young woman taking care of her grandfather who could
neither walk nor talk & yet lisa neither knew the men
or cared where they came from only that they got in the way
it so happened both goombas wanted lisa
in a bad way but instead got the axe while their young
sidekick is freaking out because of all the death & violence
to confide in lisa only to discover her own bloody handiwork
all this clocked in just over an hr because exploitation producer
harry novak is clairvoyant with what the audience will watch
slow paced still but the flick remains a model of concision
shit got done as lisa gets revenge and proves she's just
as nuts as the rest of them & so what indeed
as i type these lines the police chopper circles searching
for someone while sirens blare from down the street
going to who knows where that it appears the world
is a world of death & violence or better still as the old
u.k. punk band the exploited titled a song 'sex & violence'
where those are the only words repeated in a constant refrain
is something novak would probably attest to if i could ask him about it
but i figure he couldn't hardly care to give a shit

[written after watching the exploitation film axe; alternate titles lisa, lisa & the virgin slaughter]