Good & busy weekend in T dot
Now flitting home via aircraft
I got the exit row with ample leg room
& no neighbours to boot
Universe is smiling down
That said, left earbud not producing
A comfort for a comfort so smirks the universe
I could buy the iffy ones from West Jet
But i won’t instead.
Think I’ll get me a cold one & ponder the stuff of life
Always better over a cold one
Gazing into the pillowy ether of a wind stricken sky
Succumbing to a tireless mind
Albeit sedate after an engrossing few days
Euterpean duties were performed, beginning with
Exclamations of Dreadful Shitty Feelings
Then onwards to a post apocalyptic playground
Where phantom sounds of the miseducated
Echoed round the merry-go
& Speaking of the reverberant devil
Our next point of circumstance was the picturesque
Echo Beach where even a rainbow arched above
While we chimed to a kindly ensemble of punters.
Friends and Colleagues Said The Whale said nice things
About Camilo and Heavy Ceilings While Our Lady Peace
Concluded with rivers of can-con nostalgia
Suggesting I’ve gotten on
But I’ve resolved not to buy into the aging crisis
This body, cumbersome and heavy as it may become
Is but a shell for an ageless, neutral soul
But I digress
The day next begins by meandering CBC
To wind up in studio Q where guest host
Stephen Quinn proves to be a rather endearing soul
So we talked sticks and escapism, as you do
The latter muchly encapsulating the sentiment
Behind our forthcoming conglomerate
Of sounds and feelings and textural givings
But Instead of propagating distraction
From irksome realities by way of fantasy
We’re advocating the release of the soul
By escaping the hold of the ego’s ersatz palace
But alas, I’m waxing elephants
At risk of becoming the eloquent in the room
So here be the deets of our tête-a-tête & 2 live jams
Them being the Title Track and alleged Porter Ode:
MM on Q (CBC Radio 1), Friday @ 10AM Cross Country
Subsequently to be heard via the spider web
So not to fret should the dial fail
Oh nice, John Lennon’s “Mother”
Pours from the one earphone
Still great, all lopsided like that
Gotta love those funeral bells. Very plaintive
And just really quite solemn
Like the sober truth of reality, if such a thing exists.
But I digest
More interviews follow, and we’re getting into the swing
Of rationalizing the intangible
Using silly words and retrospective untruths
I tell ya, the abstract thing of art is perched somewhere
Shaking its head at our long winded misnomers
And false claims
Oh look, an ebullient flight attendant wielding a beverage cart
Thank you, Samantha
“I don’t believe in magic, in I-Ching, in Bible, in Talent…”
Sings Lennon, the wonderful alien
Who retreated back to space too soon
Oh Chapman, you party spoiler
Now plays Arvo Part so parton me
As there’s no pun entendre or dbl intended
But I’m unlearned in the ways of procuring the umlaut
But I undress
It’s beautiful stuff
Like broken hearted mermaids weeping
In the blackness of the ocean floor
Where was me?
Right, the memoir of a weekend
Onto a clandestine affair at the Drake Hotel
Debuting new chanties
Always a little clumsy like a new pelvic affiliate
And for this reason, wholly exciting
Which brings to mind the genius of vulnerability
It is the birthplace of the soul’s magic

Try it out

-RG