The Mark Hoot Marchetti Web Page Extravaganza

Dear Zolar,

staring at the blank page today i decided to write you a letter slash poem slash pre spoken word paraphernalia --- i question the contrived element as opposed to the how shall i say, real deal, such as myself, so to speak. but sometime you can be such the real deal that you are incapacitated in the respect that you can't, how shall i say, get out of the chair, because you see ignorance is a-bliss my brother and so on and hence from this point forward i shall be known as the big phoney per say.

it's all the ed sullivan show
sitting on the living room floor in mt. hope
wishing you were john lennon
a sun porch
hit parade
sears silvertone amp
red light, reverb, tremelo, black turtle neck
teenage hard on
hair spray blue ribbon in your dresser drawer talking to lana for three hours
with the lights out
in your bed
one hand on the phone
the other on your guitar
dreams get raked and bagged like leaves
everything dies
not everything lives
oh that's so much bullshit
everything that dies lives
i'm off on a tangerine peel
a little to tangy for my taste
i'm more the nuc mom dried fish smell kind
rice paddies, zips, slopes,
and lots and lots of guilt
survivors guilt
no red lights or reverb or tremelo
no shampoo john lennon hair
just a pain pill guilt
red, white and blue ---- exactly
i feel trapped inside of myself
i dont do what i want
i do what i don't want to
i can't relate to anyone
they are bigger phonies than i am
i can't stand myself or anyone else
i care about things so much i can't feel anything
it's all tiger piss and hair gel
i'm crippled by others kindness
it's too late
fuck it - it ain't over till it's over
i still believe, i still believe, i still believe,
in santa claus
they get their claws in you early
and it's all down hill on a bull shit slide
to disappointment
we are programed wrong
we should be here for each other
but it's survival of the richest
richie milsovic lives about five minutes from me
small world
i can't stop this rambling so bear with me
what do you get when you get what you want?
you know what it is
a disalvos pizza
some percs
some max sporting event on the tube
icy cold coke, wine, whiskey, beer
some penicillan soup on the stove
dad and grampap laughing in the next room
the rest of the family talking and what not
kids having fun
you and i playing hockey
my song on the radio
your tv show you wrote the screen play for is on that night
and time doesn't matter
and for a few moment you can forget
forget you're not john lennon
forget there are people living in a paper sack
forget you're not who you thought you'd be
forget no matter what you do it's never good enough
so you don't do anything
but the pizza turns to shit
the game always ends
people die
families move
your kids are just another ring
around the family pain
the percs run out
the booze turns to piss
the hockey game breaks
the worm doesn't turn
the real world is phoney
but for a few minutes you can remember and forget
and so my little brother i shall end this charade
this parade of words
this rotten apple
this piece of shit
and go stand in the post office line
sweating and paranoid
feeling better and not as good as the other phonies in line
give the poor victim behind the counter
some pesos
to parcel post this crap your way
it's a strange deal

as always,