Hey Garland I Dig Your Tweed Coat

Captain Beefheart · Other Songs - Captain Beefheart

Hey Garland, I dig your tweed coat.

I'll trade you a domino this size,

mothball-scented. The woman silk nude tie painting

his chest. One celluloid stay exposed through his nibbled

collar. Feet speckled the sidewalk.

Faces gurgled through windows.

Passing cars gum rubber streaks.

Neon plants swim like green seaweed to a deep rhythm

of blues. Red thyroid sunsets,

flame in speckled chemistry.

Pipes run off dark tubes. Erase into marks that pour

the dye of darkness. Crystal comes together as silent as ink.



"I don't think I could let it go. I got it at the religious scene"



Teeth let go, tobacco juice,

an oiled balloon, brown eye in an egg white,

black tar bubbles and stripes.

A straw hat squeaked on the brim of a feather.

Newsprint thumbed through nicotine fingers,

a dark olive was turned on.

Its small pulp speaker burst into a scream.

One large tomato was immediately peeled skin red.

It bled into a red "O" and smacked behind accepted

fangs. Quick eyebrows danced cutely above a mole.

The bridge held a large gold pair of spectacles.

The front was smooth. It slightly gathered and wrinkled

at the holes. A dark wooden moustache deposited below

above Chinese red varnished lips that dented slightly into the evening.



"It's gotten quite cold. I've decided I can't sell you my coat."



Honking, the wind puffed into the clumps above the

lattice rows. And out looked Panatella,

naked and not ashamed, without no clothes.

Wiggle Pig went snout-first into a tree.

The rubber turkey was gobbled up by the night's dark

rubber mouth. A white phosphorous raindrop dropped

in the sky. Hot silhouettes in a convertible gave this

applause. And several white porcelain trays were rolled

in by bumblebees. Their wings arranged with pictures

out of the past. And the rainbow baboon gobbled fifteen

fish eyes with each spoon.

Pockets was caught at window level.

Approaching the fractured glass,

dripping in light, he spoke: "I've just looked at myself,

and from here to here it ain't far enough,

but from here to here it's too short.

" "And circles don't fly, they float,

" Pena exclaimed and went on to say,

"Sun sure did shine this year. Who'd you look like underneath?"



Steve Robey sent this to Justin, along with this amusing story:

'During college (1987-1991),

my friend Rob and I would go up to drunk partygoers

and recite this entire piece in their ears

(one in the left, one in the right).

Turned many an otherwise conservative,

mainstream drunk into a very confused, conservative, mainstream drunk.....