Intergalactic Funk #72

Yesterday was my birthday but don’t worry, you didn’t miss the party. I’m bringing the party straight to you:

Intergalactic Funk #72

It’s a 70s funk theme, set in outer space. So put on your best pair of corduroy bell bottoms and platform shoes, dip your head in a bucket of glitter and step out onto the launch pad. We’re about to take the funk to a whole new level.

Space, the final frontier. These are the voyages of the starship Funkalyze.

© 2021 Kevin Trent Boswell


I don’t do drugs anymore… than, say, the average touring funk band.

—Bill Hicks

Whenever I think about funk music, it has a look… and that’s how it sounds.

—Erykah Badu

I come equipped with stereophonic funk producin‘ disco inducin´ twin magnetic rock receptors.

—Bootsy Collins


Support the creation of new music, poetry and general madness, at:

Special thanks to the following people for providing the video footage and photos. If you enjoyed the visual aspects of the video, the credit is all theirs:

Engin Akyurt 

cottonbro 

Stef 

ANTHONY SHKRABA production 

KoolShooters 

RODNAE Productions 

Kime Freedom 

Anna Tarazevich 

Yan Krukov 

Anthony 

Atakan Ozkan 

Rostislav Uzunov 

Mikhail Nilov 

JACK AND GOD IS GRACIOUS 

Polina Tankilevitch 

olia danilevich 

SHVETS production 

Monstera 

Artem Beliaikin 

Also: Pressmaster, Greta Hoffman, Askar Abayev, fauxels and Norma Mortenson

Hoochie Coochie Man (Slight Return)

Here is my cover of “Hoochie Coochie Man”. This tune was written by the preeminent Godfather of the Blues, Muddy Waters.

Muddy Waters, The Godfather of the Blues
Muddy Waters, The Godfather of the Blues

The lyrics are heavily laced with references to the Hoodoo conjure tradition of the American South. One commonly misunderstood line is:

I got the John the Conqueror Root

I’m gonna mess with you

To mess with someone was to put roots on them, meaning to cast spells on that person.

The root known as John the Conqueror (Ipomoea jalapa) is widely regarded as one of the most powerful roots or Plant Spirits; if not the most powerful.

The root, all by itself, was potent and to possess it was to hold power to exert one’s will. However, to possess a mojo hand (aka, mojo bag), made and empowered by a knowledgeable rootworker, was an awe-inspiring thing.

It was not a simple matter to travel to Louisiana and get a mojo, especially for a Black person, who had less opportunities and greater obstacles. If you wanted the magick, the only way to get it was to find a skilled doctor.

This was a man or woman who knew how to coerce the Spirits to work on their behalf. First, you had to find a rootworker and then you had to convince them to make a hand for you and pay them whatever their fee was, no questions asked.

Any rituals they prescribed you or tasks assigned must be followed scrupulously. But once you had a mojo hand, especially one containing John the Conqueror, it meant that you were a force to be reckoned with.


I’m doing all the guitar, bass and vocal parts on this track. I added Slight Return to the title as a little tip of the hat to another major influence of mine, the immortal Jimi Hendrix. Hendrix was well aware of the lore mentioned here and his song “Voodoo Child (Slight Return)” references similar themes.

During the last verse, you’ll see a quote, placed over a pic of Muddy Waters. It comes from the movie Crossroads, starring Ralph Machio; not to be confused with the movie Crossroads, starring Britney Spears.

It’s the story of a young, classical guitarist who dreams of nothing but playing the Mississippi Delta Blues. He’s a classical music major at The Juilliard School of Music but is mostly obsessed with Robert Johnson, arguably the greatest blues man ever.

Robert Johnson, King of the Mississippi Delta Blues
Robert Johnson

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music, poetry and madness

by Magus, at:

https://Patreon.com/Magus72

Magus72 on Patreon; music, poetry and assorted madness

The images in this video are

1) historic pictures of famous, Hoodoo rootworkers and practitioners of Voodoo (or Voudon, Voodou, etc) and a few that just look the part.

2) pictures of myself playing guitar

3) personal photos and video of workings I’ve done

4) random, “bluesy” stuff that gives the appropriate, Mississippi Blues vibe or the Hoodoo/Voodoo, sorcery vibe

5) images from The Key of Solomon, a European magickal grimoire (which became highly important in Hoodoo.

6) stock footage, provided by:

Thanks to the following, for some of the images in the video.

cottonbro 

Artem Podrez 

ANTHONY SHKRABA

Mick Haupt 

https://commons.m.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Voodoo_Altar_New_Orleans.jpg

Unchanged

This is the video for Unchanged. The .mp3 song download is available for patrons, over at Patreon.

It’s an original, definitely in the vein of my signature brand, a type of madness so strange that I had to give it a new name. I call it Purple Mind Licorice Music®️.

It combines alternative rock, funk, jazz, folk, blues, heavy metal and psychedelia. It’s a long name but Parliament already has Funkadelic and well, let’s face it, Alterna-Funk-N-Roll isn’t nearly as sexy as Purple Mind Licorice Music. Why yes, I do tend to talk about my music like James Brown talked about his. Thank you for noticing.

Side note, if you haven’t seen the film Get On Up, it’s surprisingly good. I’m a big fan of The Godfather of Soul, The Minister Of New New Super Heavy Funk (even if he was a total wacko, in real life). But for whatever reason, I didn’t think the movie would be all that great. I was delightfully wrong.

Besides, alternative is a lousy category. Any genre that contains Nirvana, REM, Alice In Chains, Weezer, Coldplay and Bush isn’t particularly helpful in guiding listeners’ decisions. They seriously need to scrap that garbage and revisit the drawing board.Back to the business at hand. I’ve played this song live in my band but we just never managed to get a decent recording of it.

I’m doing the vocal and all the bass and guitar parts. Here, I abandoned my memories of how we played it in the band and just started from scratch, all by myself, just me and my computer drummer, Stinky the Robot.

Fake It ‘Til You Break It

I’ve got a habit of improvising my lead guitar parts, as opposed to writing out a solo in advance. There are songs that I write solos for but those are special cases. Usually, I just improvise and keep the bits that I like.

If anyone takes issue with that, many years ago I read an interview with David Gilmour (Pink Floyd) in a guitar magazine. He said that’s the same process he uses in the studio.

He would take several, improv passes at a song, then cut and paste the bits he liked. Later, he’d go back and learn those parts for the live shows.

Comfortably Numb was done that way and I think that song did alright. It sold like over a thousand copies or something. Trust me… in my head, that joke was hysterical.

Of course, I also have a habit of keeping what I regard as being some of “the more charming mistakes“, for better or for worse. There’s one or two of those in the jam section at the end of this tune. I was tempted to re-record those bits but if they make me giggle, then they stay. Giggles are a precious commodity, not to be wasted.

Unchanged

These wounds, open and tender
Reveal your face to me
Into the chalice of my arms
The blood of your suffering flows free

It’s a mild mannered possession,
This waiting for the rain
Encumbered by the spell and
Groggy in the slumbering delay

A scrap of ribbon, fallen
From a lover’s hair
Found by the boots of boredom
Lament for things not yet dead

A piece of my soul floats there
Down in the puddle below
Somewhere in a watch pocket
An insane notion explodes


All words and music
© 2021 Kevin Trent Boswell

Thank You

Special thanks to the following people for providing the video footage and photos. If you enjoyed the visual aspects of the video, the credit is all theirs.

cottonbro

Yaroslav Shuraev

Pavel Danilyuk

Polina Tankilevitch

Vlada Karpovich

Relaxing Guru & Co.

Alena Darmel

Tragedy

I met tragedy yesterday
On the south end, today
He smiled at me
Said “Walk this way”
He took my hand, said to me
“Welcome friend. You’ll be with me.”

Said “I’m pleased to know you.”
Said “I’m pleased to do you.”
Said “You may leave…”
“You will return.” He said
“You still smile, child…”
“But you will learn.”

I am no hope***

I said “I want my freedom.”
I said “I gotta be free.”
So, I told that man…
“Get the hell away from me.”
I want my life
I want my life
I want my life
Don’t need no tragedy

*** This is an unspoken lyric. It’s part of the original poem, included here for context.

© 2021 Kevin Trent Boswell

———————

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For all of the really cool footage, photography and visual special effects, a very special thank you goes to all of the following people:

cottonbro 

Anna Kester 

Matheus Bertelli 

GEORGE DESIPRIS 

Matthias Groeneveld 

Dominika Kwiatkowska 

Aneta Foubíkova

Leonardo Lamas 

sergio omassi 

Harrison Haines 

Milan Rout 

Krypto Trekker 

Dibakar Roy 

kat wilcox 

RODNAE Productions 

Alex Green 

Ne0siam 

Christopher Ried


Support the creation of more music, poetry and general madness by Trent Boswell at:

Patreon.com/Magus72

Magus72 on Patreon

Perception

You may think you’ve seen this one but you ain’t. The new, improved and at least 333% stranger version of “Perception” from the album Flagship by Trent Boswell.


Lyrics:

Perception

What’s a man supposed to do?
It’s hard today just not to lose
So, when I’m down and beaten blue
I look around and think of you

Sink into my contemplation
Answers come with concentration

And strong opinions, well I have mine
And you may find me blind
But I don’t mind because it’s true;
I’ve never needed to see you

Walking ‘cross the field,
I realize that nothing’s real
No pain or joy

Out on the lawn the past is gone
I simply can’t be wrong anymore

Was paid a visit, a strange man
He said that Jesus could lend a hand
Now many a man can’t see the road
Or make a stand on his own

If God is Love, then Love is God
And you agree without a nod

© 2021 Kevin Trent Boswell


The album, Flagship, is available at:

Flagship, by Trent Boswell - original avant-garde rock music

iTunes

Amazon

Spotify

Or get your own, signed copy of Flagship over at Conjure Work.


Trent Boswell – lyrics, all guitar parts, vocals

Ed Kopp – bass guitar

Brett Waress – drums


Show Your Support

You can help by hitting the thumbs up 👍 button, directly on the YouTube page.

Subscribe ✅ to get more of this kind of madness. Be sure to ring the little notifications bell 🔔 and select “all”.

Support more music, poetry and madness by Trent Boswell over at: Patreon.com/Magus72


Special Thanks To

For all of the really cool footage, photography and visual special effects, special thanks goes to the following people:

cottonbro

Johannes Plenio

Stef

Mikhail Nilov

KoolShooters

Mikke House

Frank Cone

Anni Roenkae

Fiona Art

Tima Miroshnichenko

Axel Vandenhirtz

As well as Pressmaster and Erin Li.


More cool, weird, poetic, philosophical, musical and sometimes disturbingly odd stuff at:

https://KevinTrentBoswell.com

https://ThePlasticInfinity.com

Baby, Lover, Honey, Darlin’

Baby, Lover, Honey, Darlin’ from the album Flagship by Trent Boswell.

Album available at:

iTunes

Amazon

Spotify

Or get your own, signed copy of Flagship over at Conjure Work.


Become a Patron

Support the creation of more music, poetry and madness by Trent Boswell at:

Patreon.com/Magus72


Trent Boswell – lyrics, all guitar parts, lead vocals and backing vocals

Ed Kopp – bass guitar

Brett Waress – drums

Frank Cobb – hand percussion

Steve Gallian – backing vocals


Lyrics:

Baby, Lover, Honey, Darlin’

Baby, lover, honey, darlin’,
When you gonna do right by me?
You know it ain’t funny,
It ain’t about that money
It’s all about you and me

Well, now you’re gone away
Well, now you’re gone away
Well, now you’re gone away

Baby, lover, honey, darlin’,
When you gonna put out that flame
You know you can’t live on cheap cigarettes
And poorly cut cocaine

Well, now you’re gone away
Well, now you’re gone away
Well, now you’re gone away

And it’s just like momma used to say…
There’s gonna be rain some days

Baby, lover, honey, darlin’,
When you gonna take a look and see
You had it all in the palms of your hands
When you gonna do right by me?

Well, now you’re gone away
Well, now you’re gone away
Well, now you’re gone away

And it’s just like momma used to say
There’s gonna be rain some days

Baby, lover, honey, darlin’,
When you ever gonna come down?

© 2021 Kevin Trent Boswell


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More cool stuff at:

KevinTrentBoswell.com

ThePlasticInfinity.com

No More

Author’s Note: This piece is brand new. This piece is ancient. It speaks of things which happen daily. It shares memories of the long, long ago. It is deeply rooted in yesterday. It is severed from everything except tomorrow.


No More

No more crawling, borrowed knees
To beg or steal a parched penance
Privilege of chewing
Tiny, tinfoil excuses

Receipts, all signed
Cuneiform zero
There, in the register
Where it speaks of the balance
Which is long overdue
A large and loud emptiness

The slaying of pragmatism
And the prodigal son
The wisest of investments
Healthy, constant dividends
Since there are no returns

Assets freely traded
On the scales in the marketplace
Sacrifices, invisible, smoking
On strange altars of doubt

Multiplication of manna eaten in secret
Loaves baked, foreign recipes
Nets tossed into distant waters
Plucking up fishes, filling the nets
Pouring floods out of the wide mouth
Fleeing the estate, belly of greater fish
Absconding from duty
Tariffs of masticating consummation

Cutting off the heads of what was,
Peeling away, shedding foul-smelling skin,
Pulling off all those silvery flakes of armor
Toss carcasses in frying pan,
Serve with herbs grown in new earth
Feast, fructifying small kingdom
And a table for one

No more buried talents
All now upon display
A day of rest is earned
In the refusing of yesterday’s complacency
Tossing out its tired labors

Cutting down the vines
Which brought decades of wine
Wine that choked those throats which drank
In the seeking of blindness
Attempting to drown out
All hearing of familiar, droning complaints

A fatted calf not missed,
From the cool, shaded hammock
That swings peacefully in a calm, quiet
Where the only shadow cast
Is that of the grand, old oak tree
Whose face is always welcome
Who speaks only and ever
Kindly of its kin
Or not at all

Wait now, at the oasis,
For the promised bride’s coming
Who brings the cool water from the well,
For a desert weary camel

All is soon to be right,
For the steadfast resistance
Against worldly temptations

Sovereignty steps out
Dropping the broken, black irons
Of miserable bondage
Lead, flowing through the river veins
Of miserly brothers
Cruel rage of bad blood

New, mazel tov celebrations
Of kaphar, divine grace
Selah and hallelujah
In a day of jubilee

The god of forgetfulness,
Is ever gracious and joyful
Drunk on the charms
Of plentiful, good company

Regaled today, by delightful tales,
Told by they who arrive on the morrow
During a banquet, yet to bloom
Banking on its promise
Of them and their warm presence

A toast is drunk daily
To what is seen
Which is nothing
For what is
In the eyes
Most of which
Is good

A steward, in secret
Stealing everything that was sacred
Receives all, in due course
New master’s blessings
Of themselves, a fine reward

And spared a death, daily
The stoning of harsh, marble law
Seven generations
Removed from the sight
And all senses

Tools of old bone
Hand me down worries
Covet, instead, that wild courage
Which rails against the unknown

Naked, cast out
No starved, gulag wages
Demanding the whole
The lion’s share of nary
A single thing

Punished sin of necromancy
Crime of insisting upon the rubric
Of a heritage of heresy
Brooding there, in the long lines
Where impatient fools bicker and stew
Wrestling with the dogs over scraps

A hindsight, an insight
A bird advances, eagerly
Plopping itself into the hand

The exiling of perdition
Raises up its secret children
High above the floods
Where the true blessings of heaven
May kiss them upon their heads
Sealing in immunity against sorrow

That these should never dwell
In that place of woeful wandering
Stone gardens of Golgotha
Where is never and nothingness
Only long, dusky shades
Commiserating with the dead

© 2021 Kevin Trent Boswell

Photo by K. Mitch Hodge


Latest Book Release

remission, poetry by Kevin Trent Boswell
remission, by Kevin Trent Boswell

remission


Other Titles Available

Dark Matter

on the page

Liber Ex Liberi

Chaos Comes Apart

in the current

Next

The Poetry of Kevin Trent Boswell
The Poetry of Kevin Trent Boswell


More Information

KevinTrentBoswell.com

YouTube

Magus & The Plastic Infinity

the music album, Flagship

Music Streaming, Amazon 

Music Streaming, Apple Music 

Music Streaming, Spotify

SoundCloud

Pure

Video for the song “Pure” from the album, Flagship.

Pure

Stole me away into the black of my mind
Brought me near the shore of insanity
But then she came and swept me away
Now we’re smiling; nothing left to say

God is good; God is great
I’m in love and I won’t hesitate
To tidy my mind and get my soul straight
‘Cause there’s nothing I want
That Love can’t create

And of knowing you,
I hope this is only the dawn

There’s only one thing left to be done
That is to take our place in the sun
Beneath the bright sky
We’ll commandeer the breeze
And drift through the universe
Like autumn leaves

Of the world that’s brought me down
You’ve been my cure
Because you love me and challenge me
To be pure

© 2019 Kevin Trent Boswell


Support the creation of more original music and poetry from Kevin Trent Boswell, at:

https://www.patreon.com/magus72

Listen to and purchase the album at:

YouTube Music

Apple Music

Amazon Music

Spotify

Subscribe to the YouTube channel:

https://m.youtube.com/c/MagusBoswell72

Listen at:

SoundCloud

iHeart Radio

Deezer

Same Mistake

Same Mistake” from the television performance on the show, AMPED, filmed in Wilmington, NC.


Magus & The Plastic Infinity

Adam Charles on drums

Josh Kidd on bass

Trent Boswell on guitar and vocals


Words and music by Trent Boswell 

© 2021 Kevin Trent Boswell


Support more music, poetry and madness from Trent Boswell, at: Patreon

Latest book release:

remission

remission, by Kevin Trent Boswell

Other Titles Available:

The Poetry of Kevin Trent Boswell

Dark Matter

on the page

Liber Ex Liberi

Chaos Comes Apart

in the current

Next

More Information

Patreon/Magus72

YouTube

Magus & The Plastic Infinity

the music album, Flagship

Music Streaming, Amazon 

Music Streaming, Apple Music 

Music Streaming, Spotify

SoundCloud

Perception

A new music video for the song “Perception” from the full-length, studio album, Flagship by Trent Boswell.

Show your support on YouTube by hitting the thumbs up 👍

Subscribe ✅ to get more of this kind of madness

Ring the notifications bell 🔔 and select “all”


Support the creation of more music, poetry and other, assorted madness from Trent Boswell at:

Patreon – Magus72

Get a digital copy of Flagship for yourself:

iTunes/Apple Music

Or get it straight from the artist, in digital form or get a signed copy of the CD at:

Conjure Work

More Cool Junk

YouTube

Magus & The Plastic Infinity

the music album, Flagship

Music Streaming, Amazon 

Music Streaming, Apple Music 

Music Streaming, Spotify

SoundCloud

Blind In The Sun

If you like bands like Queens of the Stone Age, Jane’s Addiction, Jimi Hendrix or The Mars Volta, then you’ll probably dig this.

This is a brand new recording of the song that I wrote many years ago but never had a chance to record it until now. I’ve played it live with my band quite a few times but unfortunately, we never caught it on tape.

I’m playing the bass and guitar parts and singing. Everything that you hear on this track is me, except for the drums. That’s because I don’t have access to a live drummer right now. Besides, feeding and caring for a wild animal like that is expensive.

Here’s the full video on YouTube. Don’t forget to hit the thumbs up 👍 subscribe ✅ and the notifications bell 🔔

The song is called blind in the sun and the lyrics are below. Originally, it was a poem and I set it to music (hence the Roman numerals in the lyrics).

The .mp3 file is attached to my Patreon page, so you can go there, download it (for free) and play it whenever you want.

I forget sometimes that people don’t always follow my rather eccentric, artistic choices, so I will explain something about this track. I purposefully chose not to clean up the sloppier guitar licks on this track, because it’s the feel that I was going for… teetering on the edge of the abyss.

Going back and punching in smoother, cleaner guitar parts is easy enough. I just didn’t want ’em, not for this. I’ll mention two songs that inspired my playing on this. One is “God”, by Tori Amos. Her guitar player is way better than he sounds on that track. It’s dirty, gritty and foul, for a reason. The song is about existential angst and the loss of faith, so it’s gotta be grimy.

The other is “Come On (Let The Good Times Roll)” by The Jimi Hendrix Experience. On that song, he does what jazz musicians refer to as “going outside”, meaning that he lets his solos wander just a little bit out of time and out of key, on purpose. Of course, he brings it back in or it wouldn’t be interesting. I chose to step outside on this track but hopefully not too much.

Feel free to share the link to this page or the Patreon page, or the YouTube link on your social media, that’s the best form of advertising there is for underground artists. I thank you in advance. Enjoy!

Just click that big, unwieldy link, below, to listen to the track. Or go to the Patreon page. You can download the song from the Patreon page and have it for your very own. Just don’t forget to water it every few days and never feed it after midnight.

Blind In The Sun

https://c10.patreonusercontent.com/3/eyJhIjoxLCJwIjoxfQ%3D%3D/patreon-media/p/post/45543356/0114204adf4a4bb2b4c492b3e1d80cbd/1.mp3?token-time=1609345733&token-hash=2ZL8WItz55_ogZDHvUN7Am6ticXKPOwsOUgMUTJy7_k%3D

I.

Blind in the Sun⠀
Can you cringe beneath
The shadow of a fly?
You’d better try
Running ‘cross the sand
Fire in the hearts of your band
In the joy of being alive
Stripped of delusion
And so forwardly stride

Lost in the garden
with canonized illusions
There are the keepers
Of the tower
But I am not a member
Of the dark December
The light of the sun refracts
In my eye

II.

Everything is water
Electric fluid matter
In a paper cup
Called Time

III.

Somewhere in the North
There are real vampires
I know you go to visit
From time to time
To roll in the stench
The decadence of
Thirst for blood
To dine with a pack
Of wild gods

I have no intent
Of adopting your bent;
Partying down with the devil
On your shoulder

I have no intent
Of going where you went
Beating on a skull
In a hellish midnight circle

But who am I to say?
That you are not ok?
I will simply stay
Behind

Copyright 2020 Kevin Trent Boswell


Copyright 2020 Kevin Trent Boswell


Latest book release:

remission

remission , by Kevin Trent Boswell
remission

Other Titles Available:

Dark Matter

on the page

Liber Ex Liberi

Chaos Comes Apart

in the current

Next

The Poetry of Kevin Trent Boswell

KevinTrentBoswell.com

YouTube

Magus & The Plastic Infinity

the music album, Flagship

Music Streaming, Amazon 

Music Streaming, Apple Music 

Music Streaming, Spotify

SoundCloudBlind In The Sun.mp3

2020

Death’s message heralded on dragonfly wings

Silent trumpet sounding, the whole day long

Loss, now the winner of so many things,

Lords over the grieving, threatening the strong

Copyright 2020

Kevin Trent Boswell


Now available, on Amazon:

Liber ex Liberi The Book of Children

Liber ex Liberi; The Book of Children

Support the work at my Patreon page: https://www.patreon.com/magus72

I cross-post the public works here. Patrons-only content is available, on my Patreon.

Patreon

Magus & The Plastic Infinity

Conjure Work

antiverse

blogspot

Battle Against the Public

I think what this pandemic was lacking is a song, a tune that the people can hum. Therefore, to fill the current need, I have adapted an old favorite, with new (improved) lyrics.

I present to you, “Battle Against The Public”.

[sung to the tune of the famous song, Battle Hymn of the Republic]

Mine ears have heard the glory of the 

Omniscient, Orange Lord

He is trampling on the facts  

About the PPE we’ve stored

He hath loosed the fateful virus

By the terrible signs, ignored

His untruth is marching on!

(Chorus)

Story, story, tell it to ya!

It ain’t no worse than the flu… duh!

Praise him or he’ll remove ya!

Our Nonsense marching on!

I have seen His message echoed in the

Online, Right-Wing camps,

They have builded Him an altar 

Where truth‘s secured with iron clamps;

See through His dimwit message 

By the light of Logic’s lamps

His toupée is marching on!

(Chorus)

Friends, who you thought really knew ya!

Tell you it’s a hoax, come to screw ya!

Sit and wait at home, like Buddha!

His Orange is marching on!

I have read a fiery gospel, writ 

In CAPS of angry steel:

“Those who deal with My opponents,

Get respirators that might heal”

Let the Orange Nero, play the fiddle 

Let Americans all kneel

Trump is God and nothing’s wrong!

(Chorus)

Derogatory, press is unfair to ya!

Common sense has got the blues-a!

From Miami and NY to Chattanooga!

The virus marches on!

He has sounded forth the trumpet 

By Easter, we will have it beat;

Well, never mind… but admit, 

That the idea was pretty neat!

Doctors say… he’s a mo-ron!

(Chorus)

Gory, the doctors all conclude-a!

Fateful end, you’ll come to-a!

On breath machine, you’ll turn blue-a!

The buck He’s passing on!

In reports that came from China, 

South Korea, Italy 

The Donald was duly warned 

Of illness, born across the sea,

With mighty golf club in his hand, 

He said “Let’s wait and see”

As He lied to make men wealthy,

Let us try to make men see,

While the President blathers on!

(Chorus)

Glory, brave souls who blew the!

Whistle, sorry no supplies get to ya!

Your on your own, He never knew ya!

Our health care, shat upon!


Copyright 2020

Kevin Trent Boswell


The new book is out now, on Amazon:

Chaos Comes Apart


Take a look at my Patreon page at https://www.patreon.com/magus72

I’ll be cross-posting here, what I publicly post, over there. Patrons-only content will be available, over there.

Patreon

Magus & The Plastic Infinity

antiverse

blogspot

Conjure Work

Morning Flies Far

Confounding the stupefied senses, the

syllabus, schedules of uninformed winner

you’ve reliably opened a festering wound,

spending lunch money upon trinkets of dinner

Empty the cup that was never quite full,

all the seats cold and audience, waiting 

there’s no more rind or gristle to eat

and no one left, to hear the debating

Slink down now into entertaining covers

and call it all finally done, for a life

wasted and somehow full of wonder,

no loud report, but fish round for a knife 

And instantly recall, in blissful drudgery,

some things can’t be cut by the cannon gun

whether eight more lines or only a million

some faces watch, from which you don’t run

Quiet cannibals, eating your sorrows

angels who lift any plagues from your land

mouths that sit, ready for morsels

morsels that come from only your hand

Sing now, with wretched rooster of morning

sing loud of his majesty and curse his name

take small solace in dimwitted knowledge…

no one is salvation and no one’s to blame


Copyright 2020

Magus

(Kevin Trent Boswell)

Take a look at my Patreon page at https://www.patreon.com/magus72

I’ll be cross-posting here, what I publicly post, over there. Patrons-only content will be available, over there.

Patreon

Magus & The Plastic Infinity

Conjure Work

antiverse

blogspot

Art Matters

I wrote a post, over at ConjureWork.com that I feel is important. It pertains to art, poetry, music and accurate thinking and how we all need it more than we may realize.

Rather than recreate it here, I’m just linking it: Art Matters.

a glass of yesterdays

at nineteen

I was smitten with a girl

who loved gin and tonic

she was a preacher’s daughter

in South Carolina

I discovered that 

all of what people say

about preacher’s daughters

is blissfully true

I introduced her to

the bubbly summer fizz

and she introduced me to…

well, let’s just say… 

I learned to mix 

a mean 

gin and tonic

as she lay beside me,

naked and asleep 

on that motel bed,

I took tequila shots 

and reveled in the majesty of 

Austin City Limits

the television and I,

both sloppy drunk 

with the sounds 

of John Hammond

slurring curses through 

a mouth harp,

the tube on his finger 

causing that steel guitar 

to scream bloody murder

and holler for its momma

I sat stupefied 

on the edge 

of a cheap mattress,

covered in awe 

and still coated 

with her

Delta Blues cut 

jagged holes

into my memory, 

with its muddy banks

flesh, sights, screams,

wailing demons

and wobbling fingers

only a cheap television screen

and a cigarette ash,

backlighting 

the carnal event

she, now quiet on the bed

Hammond on the screen,

now brutally howling 

as if in some type of 

infernal pain

a blistering welt 

from the bite of a hell hound,

now sulking somewhere 

in the mosquito-infested 

darkness

“Oh!!! Say, 

my momma don’t allow me…

to stay out 

aaaaall night long!”

I, now 

consumed completely 

by cactus juices 

and cascades 

of flaming guitar notes,

flying out of the 

Devil’s fingertips

I straighten my back 

and draw in closer 

to breathe in her hair

then, toward the television screen 

and I fall sleepily beneath 

the heavy spell 

of it all

now, 

standing in a friend’s kitchen,

I think back

on all of it

I spy a bottle of gin

with a little less than 

a shot left in it

I open the fridge

lo and behold,

a fresh bottle of 

tonic water

I mix the two

and raise 

a toast

to the various potions 

of summer’s forgetfulness…

to the southern gene pool, 

with its extraordinary ability

to produce the most 

exquisite specimens 

of the female form…

to the Delta blues

its vinyl static,

scratched into my soul…

to John Hammond,

masterful and 

merciless…

to the claw marks 

on my back…

to the fear 

of Jesus


Copyright 2020

Magus

(Kevin Trent Boswell)

I am getting back on to my Patreon page at https://www.patreon.com/magus72

I’ll be cross-posting here, what I publicly post, over there. But other, patrons-only content will be available to patrons, there.

Patreon

Magus & The Plastic Infinity

antiverse

blogspot

Conjure Work

untitled

I’ve never loved one

Who would love me back

And I’ve never loved one

Who would care

When I reach out

In joy or in fright

There’s never anyone there

You may see what you want

And have what you don’t

And look, but don’t ever touch

And all is yours for the asking, my child

But love is a little too much

Copyright 2018 Magus

Kevin Trent Boswell

ConjureWork.com

ConjureSound.com

patreon.com/magus72