Broke Disc Blues

Brianna Belladonna

Brody Dalle

Falling Banjo Punk Blues

Angel Tears

Oh

Will it ever stop raining?

Will the angels

Ever stop crying?

At least

Long enough for the sun

To

Shine!

So my tools

Will

Stop rusting

So my tools

Will

Start working

Because

The dollar is slim

On these

Long wet days

When you make a living

Working in the dirt!

Too much rain

Is far from refreshing

When the crops

Sour

In the fields

When

The mud soaked ground

Can no longer

Sustain them

When the ditches

That need

To be dug for a paycheck

Collapse from

Rushing water!

The car washers

The landscapers

The irrigation men

The roofers

Are all out of work

On days like today!

So

Here I now sit

Looking out the window

Into the black and blue clouds

With their

Thundering roars

And

Heavy sounds

Like Gaye Advert’s Bass Guitar

Rumbling its riffs on stage!

I sit watching flashes of light

And

Small pieces of ice

Fall from the sky

These angel tears

Have become

My judge

My jury

On

Days like today!

White crookneck cranes

March in procession

Off in the distance

Palm trees sag and drip

On their ends like hair

On a sheepdog!

Still waiting 

I think back

On

The drought years

How miserable

They were!

How they

Snuck upon us

Like a thief

Like a pickpocket

Stealing moisture

From the landscape

The sun scorched

All in its path

Relentless waves of heat

Turned

Crops in the fields

Lifeless and brown

Roasting them

Under the burning sun

Day after day

We watched

The earth dry up

It cracked and flaked

Like dead skin

Then blew in the lonely wind

Blew over equipment

Blew over rented out land

Blew over barbwire fence-lines

And

Cattle moaning for food

Then shadows crept in

And covered the ground

As clouds

Finally started to form

The windmill creaked

As the cool wind picked up

Then the rain came

And

Gave us relief

If only there was a balance

Too much

Too little

Can affect many

That depend on the weather

To survive

From my book, When The Cedars Shade Your Grave

Bars

Comic, Dreams The Cat

Layback

Cat Rolling

Skate Art and Punk Rock Scribbles 1995

Wendy O. Williams

Foot stomping

Chain sawing

Woman

Putting it in your face

Fist pumping

Sweat soaked leather clinging

Heels of steel

Head banging lady of fury

Oh, Wendy O, what a wonder you were

Yes, as you said, “I’ve got a reputation”

A nonstop machine, against the machine

Against the business of business

I’m sure

The ones

Making money off generic art feared your voice

Like a train rolling down the track

Like a bullet

Like a sledgehammer

Driven down on top of a television

Creating a short circuit of electrical explosions 

Wendy brought it all

All was what she brought

To every stage she rocked

Like a flower holding a shotgun

Her sweat covered

Muscled body of destruction

Took no prisoners

Took no shit

Wendy O. Williams

You’re truly missed

This poem is from my book : Petals Falling