sax poetry

Sax Poetry : Featuring Moon Shawn

“A transcription of the closest thing JC Luff will ever do to “Free-Style”. The statement was made in 2013. I recited this stuff off the top of my head with a glass of wine and a friend on the sax. I did some post recording tweaks, but the integrity of the session remains intact.”

Audio resides @

https://soundcloud.com/jc-luff/sax-poetry-feat-moon-shawn

“ A statement to the ages is being made... “

The New Church of Manson

curse to eternity
blind in shaded nerves

soda lanterns
the mind in frames

i was stumbling drunk one morning
and the leaves were a ministry of emptiness

I don't know what happened to me at the allergy medecine testing grounds,
I kept a towel on my head to keep the lights out of my eyes.
Painfully I tried to remember, all the baseball cards I collected
from Detroit and New Hampshire...

These fractions of my day time life were a testament to my excuse for breathing now...

incandescent escape ceremony
tooth-butter vodka beast.

weird animals stalking the monday shopping district,
two grandmothers ready to tear eachother to shreds over a sweater,
the droning music in the city lanes was telling me to consume and be merry
... I should forget about death and forget about completion,
forget about time

neon reflex in my shoulder
old incandescent lightbulbs spewing the word of god
from a gold dusted vagina

I stutter with my glass of wine in the void
the test of the ages does not discern my warped voice
same alley way again,
we're all naked in our torture

I will love you until God pecks my eyes out..
In a smear of typewriter mathematics I remembered I was a child once
back there in the old groove, drinking whiskey and soda, trying to stay hip.
It was like my year became a cigarette

New shades of moons saved left for last
echo through a liquid past,

complication sore on my fleeting eyeline

... another word salad in a testament to the eventual end

Look out ! I was going there!

I've been to those places
mouth full of piano keys
drunk like a saint,
drying out from the olive shine of new hormones.
The chemistry of daytime erodes my reference point,

all the psychological constructs I have kept with me for years
are now melting into the air.
I don't know when day will come again,
why should I, when night completes me?

An ether wave of change...
what we need to do here is develop a new alphabet
we need to re-arrange the constructs
let our senses synesthcise

I forgot my body
my prostate was a cash register
and all these statements
made for the same usual lunch time end

when will I be a mammal again?
When will the man in the yellow laboratory coat
cure my curoisity?

This is all fine for you you you,
it's sunday morning
there's supposed to be something significant happening here
not just some promenade through a bunch of swollen mush

there were spiders in my veins...
I was a peice of furniture,
all of time's creation coursed through my hallway

I couldn't stop the shopping spree
I couldn't stop the gluttony pay day
I couldn't stop the incandesent veins of the holocaust
Jazz
Jazz
Jazz

My eyelids are bible printed /
don't let my hollow wine glass be
your excuse for new humor.
I have my own ministry
up there, behind the eyes, in between the ears
my message defeats me, cold and naked in the phosfate rythm.

Text message Christ, when will you find my algebra?
When will you find my sociology notes?
When will you find my waking apathy into nowhere?
When will you find my direction?

This is safe, luminescent phosphate television,
this the usual gathering over a wednesday pork roast
this is the testament of the daytime student...

The bible goes obsolete.
The bible goes obsolete.

And we knew there was a use for all these equations,
and we knew there was a use for all these drunk nights rambling,
we knew there was an excuse for acid,
we knew there was an excuse.

Jazz , Jazz , Jazz ...

This new afffliction

the forgotten sacrament of a day time piss

I am getting old again
getting slow in my nature...
Is this dementia?
or is this just more jazz on a weird monday afternoon?

Yea sure I can go on...
I can say more interesting things for the end of the night
why not? I haven't died yet

my last statement has not been made

why?

there's always jazz to return to
... all right