The Oddity

We finally had our gathering of friends and family for Lora yesterday. We waited for her birthday which was last Wednesday. We gathered at our friends’ Kay and Matt’s and watched a film that Kay and Lora made a long time ago.

I posted a while back about waking up one morning to find Lora stripping from paint soaked clothes. I was turned on by her painted body, but she said, “Don’t touch me, I feel disgusting!” That was after they had been filming all morning.

From Kay and Matt’s we all went to Forest Park where a tree was planted for Lora. It was next to a beautiful little pond surrounded by other trees.

Dominic brought a guitar and sang a song.

Kay gave me a couple of books I made for Lora in 1980 for her birthday. Lora and I had the same sense of humor.

We loved to poke fun at pompous artists, although we would cringe when people wore buttons that said “Back to Mono” or “F&ck Art, Let’s Dance.” My response to that was, “F&ck Dance, Let’s F&ck!” It was the only thing I didn’t like about the Punk movement. It kinda felt like, “Let’s dumb it down a little!”

In response, Lora made a great flip book of photos of her called “Lora’s Peep Show. There was even an animated kiss. I posted some of those in my memorial post.

I’m going to post The Oddity here but I want to point out that it’s supposed to be funny. I used to make animated flip books and there’s one that runs through this. I’m assembling it and will put it on YouTube when it’s finished. I also found a bunch of my old 8mm movies in Steve Martin’s musty old, post flood basement. There’s stuff I did using Lora that I can’t wait to digitize. I’ll be posting that too.

I wrote a song called Conversations for her that’s at the end. I’m not posting that but Wax Theatricks is in the process of recording a CD and the song will finally be released. The band will probably be called V3.

THE ODDITY-An epic poem by Gomer-Translated from the Greek text by David Udell

Fill the hole you dirty beast

Injustice mocks and life has ceased

The carcass seethes in its breathless life

That fills the air with its deathless strife

And yet I live through cruel endeavors

To carve a slice, to go wherever

The nature of the game so clear

I live, I love, I die, I fear

I am and so are you

And so are you too

I’m here to tell you of the glory

The rules and politics of the story

The knowledge in our hearts so clear that often fogs with passing years

Time is our very own back yard

We play and fall and end up scarred

And when it’s time to come inside we often find a place to hide

We’ll hide inside our lonely minds and die alone and

Fill the hole you dirty beast

Of songs I’ve known I’ll often wonder

What the Hell tears me asunder

Could I say it in a verse?

Would you love me in reverse?

Can I see the world through you?

Would you even want me to?

Spills the beverage through my life

The need to bleed, to take the knife

And so our hero drifts ashore

His vessel useless without oars

His throat is parched, his eyes so red

As fevered thoughts burn through his head

Another island lost so far

No phone, no lights, no motorcar

Drifting in his fairytale silence

No people to fear, no fear of violence

He falls asleep exhausted

Aware of all the lives it’s cost to get him this far

Rain will wash away his sleep

He prays to God his soul to keep

It’s cold now and it’s getting dark

He slits his wrist for a lark

God if I’m not crazy now, take me to the sacred cow!

Take me from this comic Hell, splash me across the fiery well

Let me eat, that I may feed the cannibalistic patron’s need

And so from life to art he wanders

His lucid dreams and schemes he squanders

Frivolous though his plans had been they always kept him grinning

So travels thus our heroic friend until his life comes to an end

But suddenly amongst the rocks

A band of gypsies scorn and mock

He thinks them harmless so he stops

Amused because they look like cops

“I flirt with madness,” struck bold his claim

“but I wouldn’t mind a little fame!”

“Travel with us,” said their king.

“But first you must learn to sing.”

So his life took on new meaning although he had to do their cleaning

He became a figure in their small regime

And then he began to dream

He built an empire on their image

Had lawyers always in a scrimmage

Met a woman by a pier

All at once he shed this tear

Undaunted reached the conclusion

Vision is illusion

And so he pissed inside his clothes

“Who but me will ever know?”

1-2-3-for 5 years he dwelled there

without a hint of despair where

from the ground beneath his nose

a majestic volcano rose

propelling him through the air toward God

a bird flew by to nod

the adventures of life have just begun

as he flew toward the sun

I often look up and wonder

Does he look down at my blundering?