These Chimes tonight

[knee tunes]

Why is there something in my basement dropping drips where there is nothing down cracks where there might be. Why is there something in my basement rattling bottles. Why is there nobody here defending me?

I have no idea where my side is.

[Sgt. Crackpot]

We real cool. We
Left school. We

Lurk late. We
Strike straight. We

Sing sin. We
Thin gin. We

Jazz June. We
Die soon.

[knee tunes]

my neighbor talks to his dog in english

if I were him I would probably speak in dutch

what is dutch for "pee" anyway?

what is dutch for "c'mon it's cold outside"?


is that what a dutch dog stepping sounds like?

[Sgt. Crackpot]

Hello.
Anybody here?
Heylooo?

A priest
and a prostitute
enter a bar.

They come up to the counter.
The bartender: what canna getcha?

The hooker smiles,
same as yesterday, Sam.

The priest, swollen
and sweating smiles,
I’ll have a dark century, Sam.

The clouds moved through
my notebook, anxious
as snails along rugged time.

Someone?
Anybody?

The prostitute shows
the sweetness of her blackberry nipples.
$15 a boob job.

Alfred white as a number says, OK.

I drew a whole city in my notebook
and
in one corner
I built a home
yellow with a mountain of beauty
inside the living room.

Knock, knock.

Alfred was gratified, the stars
trembling in his dark glassy pupils.

That’s $15, she said.

Half the pages are torn out,
theoretical mistakes I say;
but the bulk of my notebook
has black markings

like the shadows of birds
in a mile of snow.

[knee tunes]

Don't do that without quoting the poet

[Sgt. Crackpot]

Bob Saget