Music & Poetry

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Free Money - Patti Smith 
Live on the Mike Douglas Show, 1977

Fear Country - T-Bone Burnett

Loser - Beck
(Live Austin City Limits 40th anniversary show, 2014) 

Mama you been on my mind - Jeff Buckley
(Bob Dylan cover)

Just let go - Sturgill Simpson

Somewhere else - Lydia Loveless

Survivor - Vijay Seshadri

We hold it against you that you survived.
People better than you are dead,
but you still punch the clock.
Your body has wizened but has not bled

its substance out on the killing floor
or flatlined in intensive care
or vanished after school
or stepped off the ledge in despair.

Of all those you started with,
only you are still around;
only you have not been listed with 
the defeated and the drowned.

So how could you ever win our respect?—
you, who had the sense to duck,
you, with your strength almost intact
and all your good luck.

Faithfully - Eef Barzelay (incredible Journey cover)

Get Back - The Beatles
(Original unreleased studio version, 1969)


Glow - Ron Padgett

When I wake up earlier than you and you

are turned to face me, face

on the pillow and hair spread around,

I take a chance and stare at you,

amazed in love and afraid

that you might open your eyes and have

the daylights scared out of you.

But maybe with the daylights gone

you’d see how much my chest and head

implode for you, their voices trapped

inside like unborn children fearing

they will never see the light of day.

The opening in the wall now dimly glows

its rainy blue and gray. I tie my shoes

and go downstairs to put the coffee on.

People got a lotta of nerve - Neko Case

America read by Allen Ginsberg
(with music by Tom Waits)

The great Johnny Winter at Woodstock 1969

Suffering the Unattainable - David Dodd Lee

Large sea turtles and some whales
will outlive us, water a manifestation of wind in

   another dimension.
I had to use the shovel to hack at the wood, had to grab

a hatchet, down deep in the hole. The oak pitched around
like a ship’s mast, or I was no longer alive; perhaps I was yet

    to be
all over again, though I kept recalling your name. The verdurous roots.

In my country - Jackie Kay

walking by the waters
down where an honest river
shakes hands with the sea,
a woman passed round me
in a slow, watchful circle,
as if I were a superstition;

or the worst dregs of her imagination,
so when she finally spoke
her words spliced into bars
of an old wheel. A segment of air.
Where do you come from?
“Here,” I said. “Here. These parts.”