Monthly Archives: March 2015

What goes on behind the backs Of those who write on blackboards…  Friday, March 20, Valley Of The Vapors Festival, Hot Springs,AR #SchwervonPoetry 

Let the spring rain fall on your brain 

We don’t have time for the scenic route
We need the sleep more 
We are on a mission 
No time for cracker barrels 
And good will stores 
We are here to rock the people 

What font is your nightmare? 
No time for Mr. Hall’s boring 
speech patterns and silly boots. 
The reasons behind  why we risk
Making fools of ourselves 
What goes on behind the backs 
Of those who write on blackboards
The art of vandalism  
Of mixing paint with words. 
The science behind friendship 
And fearful speech patterns. 
Pay no attention to
The rubber seals
On the side of the highway 
The needles in my finger tips 
We are here to rock the science 

Of love

This may not be you best day
But it doesn’t have to be your worst 

(This poem was recited for the first time on Friday, March 20, 2015 at The Valley Of The Vapors Festival in Hot Springs, AR)

March Madness 3 Day Weekend: VOV Fest (Hot Springs), Fayetteville & Tulsa


Three shows for this coming weekend. Happy to be returning to the VOV Fest on Friday. Excited to check out our old NY Antifolk Scene pal Shilpa Ray. It’s been a while. Also got a chance to play a local KC show with Jamaican Queens last weekend so we’re looking forward to re-witnessing their enormous sound on a larger stage as well.

Fri. 20 – Hot Springs, AR “Valley of the Vapors Festival
w/ Jamaican  Queens (MI) + My Gold Mask (IL) + Shilpa Ray (NY) + Fred Thomas (MI)
21 – Fayetteville, AR (JR’s Lightbulb) w/ Rival Monsters + PK
22 – Tulsa, OK (Soundpony) w/ The Daddyo’s + Noun Verb Adjective

We sit upon the broken eggs… Friday, March 14, 2015 #Schwervonpoetry 

IMG_5109Morning sun deliver me
From the tar pits
Fuel the day with
Woolly Mammoth tusk.
The picked over bones of writing.

Skin crumbs that chip and peal
from all the faces
That I love and dream

A day before the fire
Evading the battles
Over log cabins and hard cider
Birkenstock face lifts
Spray painted Cadillacs.
Mr. Potato head eye shadow

We learn to dance with
The broken bodies

We study the chickens in the yard
We learn from their moves
We sit upon the broken eggs
The imperfect yolks.

Broken free
We shine with glitter
Dripping from the corners
of our mouths

We smile rainbows
With each potato we peel
Each root we pull from the earth
Our dirt clod legs
Dangling in the sunlight
Pounding on the water trough.

Of this earth but no longer in it
Time to skip and dance
Time to feed others
With our passion packets of
Life force.
Feast on us.
Be filled to move.

(This poem was recited for the first time on Friday, March 13, 2015 at Vacant Farm in KC, KS)