Watching the Nick Cave Doco
There’s something about him
the little boy made good
the hopeless romantic who didn’t die
the guy that loves books, writing the sordid
details of our collective doom
The way he can command a room
on stage he’s one of the chosen
He has the power
and while i give mine to him
for that instant
I also see straight through him
there’s no body there
the smoke and mirrors of emotional drama
is whipped and curled into submission
He talked about seeing Nina Simone.
A woman who fought for every inch of her bones
with a gift, like Nicks, that was greater than herself
she wielded and cut the stone that said to her
“I can never be cut, all you can do is become blunt on me”
And she hit, she hit, she hit and now her music is more than music
it cuts, it opens everything it touches
and you bleed in Nina Simone your own sorrows
I join her army.
the back drop in place, Nick, you raise the dead with your hands, like a sea of frozen dinners
popped in microwaves, appreciated
At the end of the night, the high wears off and all that is left
is a great performance. I didn’t join your army. I’m still waiting
There was nothing there. You said there was a war coming.
This miserable woman says it's my problem
that the room pushes me against her
she's in pain
and I can't do anything about it, and she's hitting me and calling me fucker
For her to have her own experience, alone.
It’s not enough to raise the emotional level of a room
take us out for a run, to let us exist for a while
before we go back in the box
be crushed by the commodity that you are Nick,
You could have been more.
That’s what you didn’t say in this 20,000 days
is that you’ve looked around but are content to take
your directions from what’s selling on tv.
Why it’s selling
cannibal is bigger than you Nick, we
are all cannibals that’s culture what else have you got?
what the fuck do you care about? Ok, writing and TV, you admitted.
that’s exactly what you look like:
success enables you to crawl from cage to cage
but the movie suggests a doubt.
Oh I don’t know, I just wish you could be more like Nina Simone you
and mean something bigger than yourself, this puny doll made self.
Connect to the still alive community that is suffering
from your lack of physical presence.
From the commodity gifts that rain down
of your perfect presence
of the disconnect,
between the Performer whose transformation is suppose
to be all of ours, for a reason..
not just to get high off it.
Come back down for another photo shoot.
Nick, Join the feminist movement.
suffragettes, suffragists, forever.
take a stand with them
let the slings and arrows of literary
achievement boil down into blood
that’s still pumping into our veins.
I want to see you with your back against the wall
with nothing but your finger nails to push back
the wail of human misery to be sent to you.
Stand under that. I'll see you
phantom flickering on my wall
what could you say to me anyway
I didn’t even buy you.
I write this to myself,
a letter about me with your sock puppet persona
Telling me if I think or not,
What I am doing right with my life
I think. I know
I feel. Yes.