brisco@topaz.ARPA (T.p.) (08/06/85)
>The lunatic is on the grass >The lunatic is on the grass >Remembering games and daisy chains and laughs >Got to keep the loonies on the path >The lunatic is in the hall >The lunatics are in my hall >The paper holds their folded faces to the floor >And every day the paper boy brings more... > >And if the damn breaks open many years too soon >And if there is no moon upon the hill >And if your head explodes with dark forbodings too >I'll see you on the dark side of the moon.... > >Oooooohh ooooohhh... > >The lunatic is in my head >The lunatic is in my head >You raise the blade >You make the change >You rearrange me till I'm sane >You lock the door >And throw away the key >There's someone in my head but it's not me... > No no no, The lunatic is in the machine room!! He masquerades as a 7 foot leather bound cucumber (with studs!!). Last night he knocked down one of the girls and tore her panty-hose off, put them on over his head, stuffed his ears with rock-salt and danced the watusi on top of the consoles to the tune of "Is you is or is you aint my baby". I complained to the authorities (remember those fascists who pull you over for having fun?) and he over-heard me, climbed down from the consoles, and bludgeoned my terminal keyboard with himself. (this is what it looks like when a 7 foot leather bound cucumber with studs bludgeons the keyboard with himself.. m yhjbm vng uy6857324vdsfbt mnbm vsxv xa zc z [ ] [ ...So I called Terminal repair and got immediate and satisfactory results from the secretary, but Im still waiting to get my terminal fixed.) I can still see the cucumber waiting out there -- THERE! behind the TU78!! I saw a leafy vegetable!! AUUUGH!! I've been trapped in here since last week by the Caesar Salad waiting by the entrance, and now the Cucumber is after me!! I cant even get to the coffee machine now! Especially since the dollar changer got vengence in it's heart. *************************************************************************** * IT'S THE REVENGE OF THE KILLER FRUIT SALAD * *************************************************************************** Available at grocery stores soon. tpb; (What's that on the telly? It's a penguin. No! That over there... OHMIGOSH! Its a seven foot leather bound cucumber with studs! What's it doing on the telly? ) ***************************************************************** * ARPA: brisco@rutgers * * UUCP: (ihnp4!ut-sally, siesmo, allegra!packard) !topaz!brisco * * The drive in: The burgundy buick near the fruit stand * ***************************************************************** -- ***************************************************************** * ARPA: Brisco@rutgers * * UUCP: (ihnp4!ut-sally, siesmo, allegra!packard) !topaz!brisco * * ***************************************************************
oliver@unc.UUCP (Bill Oliver) (08/13/85)
Perhaps some words from Anne Sexton.....
Take a lunatic
for instance,
with Saint Averton, the patron saint,
a lunatic wearing that strait jacket
like a sleeveless sweater,
singing to the wail of Muzak,
how he walks east to west,
west to east again
like a fish in an aquarium.
and if they stripped him bare
he would fasten his hands around your throat.
After that he would take your corpse
and deposit his sperm in three orifices.
You know, I know,
you'd run away.
I am mother of the insane.
Let me give you my children:
Take a girl sitting in a chair
like a china doll.
She doesn't say a word.
She doesn't even twitch.
She's as still as furniture.
And you'll move off.
Take a man who is crying
over and over,
his face like a sponge.
You'll move off.
Take a woman talking,
purgin herself with rhymes,
drumming words out like a typewriter,
planting words in you like grass seed.
You'll move off.
Take a man full of suspicions
saying: Don't touch this,
you'll be electrocuted.
Wipe of this glass three times.
There is arsenic in it.
I hear messages from God
through the fillings in my teeth.
Take a boy on a bridge.
One hundred feet up. About to jump,
thinking: This is my last ball game.
This time it's a home run.
Wanting the good crack of the bat.
Wanting to throw his body away
like a corn cob.
And you'll move off.
Take a lady in a cafeteria
staring at the meat loaf,
crying: Mama! Mama!
And you'll move off.
Take a man in a cage
wetting his pants,
beating on that crib,
breaking his iron hands in two.
And you'll move off.
Clifford, Vincent, Friedrich,
my scooter boys,
deep in books,
long before you were mad.
Zelda, Hannah, Renee.
Moon girls,
where did you go?
from "Iron Hans" in the collection Transformations.
Bill Oliver