Rousing the Rubble
Say, U are into modes – in your solitude – the A train – Coltrane – The F train – The D – straight to Queens – traveling undersound of Jazz – Like, Jazz me, Jazz me baby, all night long! Into Nightrain – into provokin’ emotions all day long – Like take that Isle of Manhattan – that twelve mile isle, & make it over in yr own image, like Wynton Marsalis like Miles, Clifford Brown, Cat Anderson, Diz & Fats Navarro! Like those B-boys on Home-boy turf – the quickest way to get from Harlem – say U’r into art the High & the Low – into trashing whole cultures! Into Putting on the Ritz – into sledge hammers & axes – say Lucky Strikes into those scenes – fashions, styles, attitudes – into modes of transportation – call a cab, a car service, a limo – Take the A Train – like Coltraine – ride the F or the D – the number 4, 5 or six – underground – check out the people – that mix – that blonde, them apples, the image blurs! U dig? Spades & superspades! Coaltrain like soultrane on the other side of the tracks – environments – gold chains racquet balls – snowballs, for sale – one dollar each on St. Marks Place – David Hammons’ Delta Spirit House on the other side – the West Side Highway downtown – this side the Hudson River – skip a marble in the harbor, say amen – in that amen corner – say jass (?) , like in ass! Say, kiss mah ass! Say, sass (?) ! A Tree Grows in Harlem – Higher Goals – Jailhouse Blues – the Mayor as a Dunce – the President, a fool, the original Fall Guy – Putting on the Culture walking round Harlem! The Man in a White Suit carrying wine bottles glued together – being with the rabble – Rousing the Rabble – say she’s daid, spirits enter that world of spirits, environments – What the fuck p- Rooms Fulla “Stuff” – items, things – symbols into synergy!
Mixing & Matching Crows & Con, Elephant Dung! Bullshit – U dig! Alters – Utilizing spaces – chicken bones neck bones dog bones Like in tones off and on the phone – call waiting! On the television into visions the seen and the unseen, how U like me now? Heavy into Bush – U dig! Bush – U dig Bushed! Do the wild Thang! Like David – on his bike – his two wheeler, his bicycle, into that little red wagon – give her back her stuff! What the fuck?
Fuck & suck like in Mapplethorpe, Fuck & suck – do the wild thing – David on his bicycle into sights world of sounds – raw energy! Crab grass Grab ass! Fuck-n-asshole Punk into funk – Blue Monk – putting on the culture, into Ornette – with his hornet travelin’ the spaceways – playing with Sun Ra – the Ra & his Solar Arkestra! U dig! Jameel Moondoc (?) ! Who says J.R. – on his bench in the park – putting on the culture – the joke – shake a leg – break an egg! Change the joke slip the yoke – fuck you – fuck a suck such a fuck busted, U dig! Making these connections, David & his concepts – bouncing off the wall – Mona Lisa – into Lisa – Moan into Lisa! “Grits ain’t groceries, eggs ain’t poultry, and Mona Lisa was a man” – David Hammons and his scene!
The art scene, fuck that – U fill in the blank: Fuck that David Hammons & his travels – Updtown, Downtown, downtown Up – into originality! Like Shine, like that monkey! Like Brer Rabbit! Uncle Sam – into a slambam Blam, a slugfest! Into yeast! Into meat & potatoes – Red beans & rice! Into the role of the Court Jester! On the radio on television, into 1970, into VCR’s into Boomboxes, into bebop, hip hop, scatter shots – lower poles Higher Goals – into Human Hair – into Bottle caps into people and their attributes – into extensions of selves! David Hammons’ Isle of Manhattan – tipping strolling gyrating – Homesteading – parked in that park! Squatters doin’ their squat – Gimme dat wine, feed the spirits, feel the spirit into Ra! And his band that Solar Arkestra! Intermix intertwine so fine that fine line into colors, shapes and forms, U dig! Space for the spirit to enter! Dig Disc (?) “Color Fields” into Abstract Art! Dem bones the element! The church the steeple the people! Hammons on his bike – biking in Harlem down through Central Park, Jelly Roll rolling – C-Jam Blues always on a roll – praising the culture not unlike the Stylistics – checking out where Lincoln centered, out behind the scenes, heavy into pipe dreams – that stream – Jello! Say, hey, they got one – get off! Getting off get offa mah cloud Junk City! Crack head Hop heads wake the dead funeral processions! Litanies epiphanies sacred rituals whole cultures profaned Blasphemy! U dig where Columbus Circles – down – go David go, down Broadway where Times Squared! Downtown past Macy’s Gimbel’s Michael Jackson’s little red Corvette Prince & his Paupers! U dig! The Bells of the Ball – Those southern “Belles” La Grande Dame – Reet petit! Like Little Bo Peep – And gone, go David Run Jesse, run that Breakfast of Champions! Like a Jack in the box into jackshit into didleysquat into U know! U know! U know! Don’t U know – like birds, like crows like pigeons into pigeon wings. Down past Madison Square that Flatiron building – stop off at Billy’s! Ladies exposin’ themselves – men, into asses and tits tits and asses.
Doggie bags Ross! Into Butch Morris into Darius James and John Farris in their roles as trickster figures Tom Corn with his cornpone! Deep into sleep Steve’s stoop Ari and his video friends in neighbors scenes inside scenes a tree outside the house on East Third Street, made over into a work of art! Jungle bunnies porch pussies Dis dat split splat I’m outta here! David Hammons and his environments – check it out! Dig – U dig! Like splibs delving thru a place in space for the spirits to do their do! Like Who Be do be who – Like U do U’r do! And on the radio Oh, into the boob tube the idiot box locked out – locked in on the inside looking out – mmm – (MM) – into Lady Day Laffin’ on the outside “round Midnight” After Midnight After Hours in the Wee Small Hours of the Morning Neither/Nor the Chameleon Life Café the Live-in Theatre – the Nuyorican Café – Gallery Space ABC No Rio! The Yo yo! After midnight – after hours – New York after dark – they smile in yo’ face – Batman’s robbin’ the Joker no shit, Dick Tracy! In U’r Solitude in the Wee Small Hours – on the milk run – that red-eye special – On the Streets of Manhattan, East Side West Side All Around the Town the Sidewalks of New York – after the bars and the clubs empty out the sordid the homeless! The misbegotten under the cover of darkness Blue Moon No moon, under the cover of darkness in the wee small hours up in Harlem – Midtown – on the Lower Eastside – Performing Artist – this is when you see the empty bottles and empty people makin’ their rounds, into makin’ their own sounds – into smiles into frowns! Digging in garbage in search of more empties – bottles and cans! Those who do be hungry doing something about their condition – with David on the scene in those lonely wee small hours after hours state of New York! Raw Energy! Making his rounds, dreams turned into nightmares heavy into art – that New York art scene outdoor art – dreams turned into realities – all night diners – back in his studio on 125th Street – making art out of that which he has heard and seen on the scene out of funk! Out of central Illinois – out of Los Angeles out of his world travels! Creating a space for the spirits! That flash of the spirit! All praise be do Like blame into shame like that shim sham shimme (?) ! Into SAM! Fuck a duck state Yo claim in the
dawn of a new day! Makin’ art do the work! Like with a spade, a top hat and overcoat diggin’ for what it is – what it is! ‘Sup?!
Eyes buggin’ out of ears ears made over into eyes out and in the funk – check David around noon as he enters his studio – sights inside of sounds ear to the ground – gritting on grits, hamhocks and collard greens the scene is clean at Bishop McCullough’s soup kitchen Daddy Grace’s grace – checkin’ those scenes up and down east and west on 126th Street LIVE AT THE APOLLO. Lissen up Yo! Lissen up, Bubbles Bengie (?) those beads Afro Man no maps on his taps – Lee Morgan’s sidewinder into Chano Pozo’s Manteca – slapping jive Doin’ the Butt Doin’ the grind into Sandman grittin’ on grits eggs over e-z sunny side up – Like eyes like diamonds teeth shine like Fort Knox gold Shabazz Shabazz Badass dis! David makin’ it on downtown – crosses 110th Street – Soul kitchen into conniptions checks the scene as it changes from Black, Brown and Beige into a Whiter shade of pale ofays – grays down thru Central Park Tennis or badminton basketball, anyone pictures in the landscape the village green in the garden pastoral scenes a rumble in the jungle downtown, go on David with his mixed bag of tricks – echoes of a distant past the delight maker – that map maker Omar – into Ahab Chasin’ that White Whale – dig him for what he is – that scene in Times Square – that hustler’s tourist’s Jame’s (?) Paradise – the paradox Inside Paradise) Straight on down Broadway--dem bones into bonbons into bones op-art bop-art hip hop shoot U’r shot! Public arts works Latrines and an assortment of places in space to relieve one’s self nobody’s nobody check the body language made over into features those most sacred of ancient traditions into monkey shines into shoeshines Got a dime? She’s so fine! Drop a line drop a dime U know the number behind the eight ball cues and cuesticks tripping out on trips inside Madison Square inside Union Square Tompkins Square Park those scenes inside scenes outraged on the edge where opposites clash – watermelons and crackers and look-a-like Sambo dolls Sam doin’ the shimmy! Like ripple the waves. Have art will travel – A bag fulla “Bones”. So say can U picture Urself – say, alias, like anonymous – on pot unlike David straight out of Central Avenue, Watts, Hollywood, Beverly Hills. Say, Pasadena, Alias, not unlike David, say David Hammons outside, on a weekend in the 70s outside the Metropolitan Museum in the Big Apple (forget about Eve – forget about Eve and Snakes for a moment) with U’r artworks – paintings down on the concrete, the cement sidewalk outside the Met, displaying U’r art for sale, like alias, say anonymous, like David Hammons – Echoes of the French Impressionists – those sidewalk painters in London – outside the Tate (don’t be late) with your work – art (works) on art drenched in pigeon “do do!” And the young bright spirit – this lady, this art “connoisseur” this lover of art comes to you – she calls herself Linda (Bryant) and says David U don’t have to do dis – U dig – let’s open a gallery to exhibit U’r work – art on 57th Street – she invites U in – and this spot becomes U’rse – into U’r own concept of minimalism – say, miniseries into Minnie – body prints – U hang where U hang – shooting the “bull” – betting the “Breeze” – passing the “time” – heavy into the “Scene” scene – among the seen and the unseen to see and be seen – dig – say U do Do u Do dat split/splat! Drop a line Drop a dime (don’t do a line) into Wheaties into Jello My-T-Fine eggs over E.Z. Still into being alias – out of the blue – out of nowhere there in that space in the place that gallery on 57th Street. Just Above Midtown – that swirl of images in midtown Manhattan Night & Day. Those four seasons – thru thick and thin (don’t drop a dime save the line) U Suddenly met A.C. – like in time – over a period of time – that moment in “history” into “art” as process – into finding and keeping into finders/keepers into Finders Keepers as alias, as anonymous, the both of U David and A.C. as back-up (watch U’r back) the straight man and fall guy regular stand-up sit down guy, on that edge (not unlike a ledge) where cultures converge – (if not emerge or submerge and emerge) the both of U get to know each other on that level of art as process of art as experience as ritual – that ritual of finders/keepers – the wayward and the seeker – into telephone poles! Into shacks by the river U and Same (Cooke) “Ah wuz down by the ribber in a little tent, an jes lak de ribber ah bin runnin’ eber since” into Post into post time into the New York Post – into post modern – post straight out of nowhere – in order to make U’r statement “Le Condition Humaine” – U start searching for dat and dis – get into dis and dat – a little dis and lots of dat – three elements to make U’r statement – so U go back to “Bones” – that rag and bone shop of the mind – quoth the raven (Hello, bye bye hello blackbird) Crows into found objects public art works environments, into Loft Jazz! Like in sass (putting on the Ritz – number nine, number nine) into hard and software into wares – into synergy like stores and storehouses like wares in warehouses – into art (rites) what be rituals Do be who? U be do David and A.C. working as a team that small circle of artists Pow Wow into their “bull” sessions on the ledge on the edge on the margin – poking fun at society those original court jesters laffin’ at those in (serious) positions of (power) authority – say, the authorities the official story (snakeskin venom) in the garden (Central Park as the Garden) before and after Eve’s fortunate fall profaning the sublime and the wilderness – that trip to coontown – Darktown – follows back of town across the tracks that moment in history – Be bop hip hop – U and David – David and A.C. his right hand man defining space traveling thru space into art objects ah objects, yo Honor! “Sustained!” – in the rain, stained blood red – into primary colors shapes made over into forms – stay loose – rites made over into rituals in repetition (repeating, constantly repeating into a multiplicity of forms – like a beast into feet movin’ thru history – clickin’ around town – over refined (the raw and the cooked) that journey to (thru) the wilderness – the artist as trickster figure working both sides of the street having it both ways alias U and David. David and A.C. – art as process – twenty years down the road – occupying, creating, mixing, matching and making a map maker’s paradox in Paradise – the paradigm – the space (Tadd’s Delight) Mon. (?) Q.Q. (?) – the night thoughts on paper art as media media/art – the dunce half an ounce (there’s a frog in my soup) – in out of the way places away from those masses in mainstream – like in the midst of those street merchants on Astor and St. Marks Place (in the city of Juxtaposition, high contrast) those merchants with their paraphernalia – shoes, snowballs – (there’s a fly in my soup) – into pocket trumpets (why say, Don Cherry U say?) Cutting out a map of Africa ‘bout the size of Central Park say from out of nowhere! Do you dare? Into magic figures, figures of magic figures figure – figures like U figure, how U figure that? – Das (?) figure – Aladdin’s lamp – tramps doin’ the bump – the jump! Dance the night into day! Think about it – think it over – think it like in think tanks – like in no thanks – do he be po this one in the white suit the black suit – the top hat the cane that shot of run that smoking cigar nobody – the emperor unclothed do be the joke on U provided U’r sidekick do be do be who U do be do U? Into art as process – in search – into bathtub gin – into well-worn basketballs into creating “environments” – the joke’s on who? Into “gone – I’m outta here!” Check it out dig it for what it is environment of the spirits! Collections of synergy! David Hammons as the original fall guy – the culture in a state of Dis “Grace!” Later!