beating on a rock
Last night I met a poet. I was down at the rehearsal studios trying to write some songs. We were in the front office area chatting with the proprieter about gear when the poet sauntered in.He began to tell us about a place where the poets in town used to hang out. He was describing how many different people came in.
"White cats, black cats, indian cats, cats with mowhawks, leather jackets, afros, everything.. Now that's some serious gumbo for your ass, jack."
I laughed at this. He continued to tell about a poem that an Indian guy had read there about the grass of India. The Indian guy had said that when the Indians fight the British over the grass of India, it's the grass who loses.
He seemed to have a lot to say, so I asked him what the meaning of life was.
He said: "If you see a guy by the side of a road, beating on a rock, and some dude starts fucking with the guy beating on the rock, then you'd better fuck with the guy who is fucking with the guy who is beating on the rock. If he will fuck with someone who isn't hurting anyone, then he's probably going to fuck with you next."
Sounds like good advice to me.
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