This is how dreams work. You wake up with a fragment of dialogue, a string of words, an image that niggles. You dash down a few words before you forget them. You don’t worry if it make sense only if it sounds good enough to write down.

delightful plants
delightful plants

Zappa comes from one of those dreams where I clearly saw those bricks that needed pointing in the basement. Only in the dream the contractor was sort of hot, unbutton shirt etc. and he was talking about the drums on Freak Out and how so much of pop music made him sick.

a place to see delight
a place to see delight

When I was assembling the dream fragments I remembered I had seen a documentary about Zappa not too long before in which they interviewed one of his female back singers who said there was hours of music stashed away somewhere. At that point I wondered if Zappa ever recorded with Morrison, because I do have tracks of Morrison & Hendrix together.

fountain of delight
fountain of delight

All that filtered into the dream somehow and Zappa was the result. Check out the Plaster Casters for more on their work.




in this dream

the wife of the contractor

working on pointing the bricks in the basement

was once a friend of a woman who worked for Frank Zappa

the contractor heard me playing Freak Out

she knew Susie Creamcheese

and would I like to to met her

I said sure

we got together Saturday afternoon

at his mother-in-laws house

because in fact it was she

who once worked for Frank Zappa

she lived on the seventh floor

her apartment was a tribute to that time in her life

there were no photos of her children

or her late husband

who was once a dj in California

but left to avoid the draft

the pride of her memorabilia collection

was a plaster cast of Jimi Hendrix’s dick

it was fat and veiny

but in white plaster

she also had some old recordings that Frank Zappa

had made with Rod Stewart

and did I want to hear them

it was hard enough to envision Hendrix with a white cock

without trying to

visualize Frank Zappa and Rod Stewart

in a recording studio at any time

so I said sure

she brought out a reel-to-reel

covered in hand-painted daisies

and treaded in the tape

rod was singing

I want to hold your hand

while Frank played arching aching guitar riffs

there must have been a dozen drum sets played at once

then Jim Morrison

came in from her bedroom

looking just as he did in New York

he was pulled up his fly

asked me if I had heard enough already

he began to sing you make me sick

you know that Pink song

I was hoping they didn’t have a plaster cast of Pink’s clit

which would have turned this sweet dream

into a nightmare

tweety and friend
tweety and friend

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