Hawk spirit girl

G D
Hawk /spir-it /girl
Watching me from the sky
Like a
Satellite spy

My open port eye
Streams
Like a
Rodeo Jill
Rides my wild dreams

Small like a breath
Along the red irrigation canals
In the warm heat of the sun
She finds her pray

Hawk spirit girl
On her fast highway
Realises
A breath
Of life
Like an earthly meteorite
To my dark and cratered side

To land down
Like a cat
That calls to be let in

The first line has an obvious musical rhythm so I’ve tried it in key of G and seems ok.

Who is Hawk spirit girl? Why end the poem with a cat wanting to be let in? What is this crazy poem about. I think its network of images would work as a song anyway with a little tweaking.

Ian Dury and Blockheads

Its got a Caribbean rhythm except faster and more obsesive. He reminds me of Lou Reed with those glasses/shades. Has he turned what could be a request to be beaten up into cool bravado thing. Life on the road song. Been to all those places with his band.

“Hit Me With Your Rhythm Stick”

In the deserts of Sudan
And the gardens of Japan
From Milan to Yucatán
Every woman, every man

Hit me with your rhythm stick
Hit me! Hit me!
Je t’adore, ich liebe dich
Hit me! Hit me! Hit me!
Hit me with your rhythm stick
Hit me slowly, hit me quick
Hit me! Hit me! Hit me!

In the wilds of Borneo
And the vineyards of Bordeaux
Eskimo, Arapaho
Move their body to and fro

Hit me with your rhythm stick
Hit me! Hit me!
Das ist gut, c’est fantastique
Hit me! Hit me! Hit me!
Hit me with your rhythm stick
It’s nice to be a lunatic
Hit me! Hit me! Hit me!

Hit me! Hit me! Hit!

In the dock of Tiger Bay
On the road to Mandalay
From Bombay to Santa Fé
Over the hills far away

Hit me with your rhythm stick
Hit me! Hit me!
C’est si bon, ist es nicht
Hit me! Hit me! Hit me!
Hit me with your rhythm stick
Two fat persons, click, click, click
Hit me! Hit me! Hit me!

Hit me!
Hit me!
Hit me! Hit me!

Hit me!
Hit me!
Hit me!
Hit me!
Hit me!
Hit me!
Hit me! Hit me! Hit me!

Xerox Girls: X-Girlfriend

A short paragraph under tapes section in the “Totally Wired” fanzine got me curious about the Xerox Girls.

Noisy, gritty punkpop with a menacing voice above a self righteously messy backbone of tempered drums and tempest guitars. chugging riffs fuel abrasive noise –

pollution tunes that echo and clamber for currency.

A bit like blogging.

It takes your breath away.

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