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...and they lived happily ever after. Smith & Lady: poets, artists, photographers & adventurers.
Our relationship was forged to the soundtrack of Yoko Ono's magic,
frenetic, love-laden song, "Walking On Thin Ice." ( play song )
 
   
 
 

FLY MEAT TO THE MOON

“What is Rockabilly, anyways?”

It’s like up tempo non-country Country. It’s country rock’n’roll.

“Like Elvis?”

Some of Elvis’ early things were Rockabilly.

“How would you categorize Blue?”

My first impulse is Art Rock. There’s a lotta cabaret dimensions to it.

“What makes you an expert?”

I’m not an expert. I’ve just seen and heard and experienced a lot, and I think about it.

“I don’t think so much anymore.”

Well, to be honest, all these definitions are pulled out of a hat. They’re just lies I make up on the spot. Spot lies.

“So I could ask you anything and you would give me an answer.”

If my brain is nimble enough and if my lies are limber. And if I’m not in a bad mood. It’s hard to be flip in a bad mood. Sincerely flip.

“Mind on the Flip Side.”

With an odor of Fried.

“I noticed the day we got real sunburned, the flies started eating our heads. I think we smelled like meat.”

Fly meat. Wormed-over fly meat. Fly meat to the moon!

“Ooh. That gives me chills… You know, we could play shit like that and it’d be a totally different reality.”

What do you mean?

“Well, you could wear polyester suits and I could drip diamonds.”

I like the diamond part. But I don’t do dress-up. My persona is enigmatic t-shirts and black jeans with a young chicky wife on my arm. You’re my dressup.

“I look like a Partridge-family-style hippie. It’s really gross.”

We’ll have to disfigure you. I turned my first wife into a hippie too. I have powers. I marry women one by one and serially turn them into hippie chicks.

“Marry me again?”

I wonder if I’d be a bigamist if I married you again.

“We’re like two shoes on the same foot.”

Two shoes on the same foot?

“Same body. Two shoes on the same body.”

Must be really big if they’re body shoes.

“You’re a strange man, man. Mr. Strangeman Man… You got this grayness about you today.”

I’m Smokey Grey. Smokey segway one.

“You keep changing your face on me.”

I didn’t want to be two faced, so I became infinite faced.

“That’s Godhead, isn’t it?”

No. Much closer to Doghead. Or He-a-dawg.

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