July 12, 1994: We celebrated the first anniversary of the Gumby Bible group poem

Thirty years ago today 

            On Tuesday I made phone contact with a dominatrix named Mistress Anna and arranged to meet her on the following Tuesday. 

            That night we celebrated the first anniversary of the Gumby Bible group poem at my Orgasmic Alphabet Orgy writers open stage in the Art Bar of the Gladstone Hotel. Mary Milne brought watermelon for everybody. We had eighteen people, including Brian, Tanya, Yehudah, Diana Skala, Diana Dufretes, Tom Smarda, Paul Sims, Steve Lowe, Paul, and Angeline, and I think this was Victoria’s first night. Sections of the poem were read by Mary, Brian, Angeline, Tom, Steve, Paul, and Yehudah. Then I had Diana read the first part again. There was a lot of laughter because each section sounded like it had been written by the person who was reading it. People also read their own poetry. When I passed around the page for people to add to this week’s Gumby Bible it ended up with a watermelon theme: 

The fish danced delicious in my hand

scaling the heights of Death

circadian synchromass

differential mechanics

& 18 basic equilibriating developments

If a little bit of compassion grows

behind the eyes be grateful

I put down my piece of watermelon 

with the toothpick stuck in it 

& it drips pink & playful 

We are thankful for our feeding 

It feeds our Egos

& we grow outward from inward sustenance 

Watermelon is our Truth 

Some of our nonsense like life itself 

is the wisest we can attain 

Down on the dock I saw a spider

feeding on watermelons 

His head was a seed filled with all possibilites:

a flower a tree a man 

Man!!!Weak & pitiful thing 

Skin a translucent pink 

like the carcass of the watermelon 

& filled with seed 

Bigger than the breadbox of Heaven 

& rounder than the red neck of ribald Roger 

No-Teeth Letitia is on tap for two tap for two 

From outside a woman yells responses 

There is poetry on heads

fishing the air like casting in rivers 

& fishing for rivers of head yet uncast 

Should've gone & should've found out 

while I still had a little time time

to go fishing for the Nazis

& the watermelon design on a tablecloth 

Unfocussed yet an omen of memory 

But I remember the glorious watermelon 

That wonderful food of my fantasy 

Pink so pink like the flesh I desire 

The spider pulled his head from watermelon red meat 

& said plainly to me "At Life's banquet don't eat spam" 

Spam coloured flecks on the carpet 

worn thin by our tapping feet 

tapping out of time out of time out of time