Category: Visual Arts

It’s crazy but I’m frightened by the sound of the telephone. Oh yeah, I’m worried that the caller might have awful news. Oh my. Who knows these days where on earth the Sunday Comics go. Oh yeah, no doubt we could put ’em to a better use. Oh my. I’m looking for clues.

Democracy. Crazy demo. Demonstration of craze. Crazy demonstration. If it no be craze, why for Afrika? As time dey go, things just dey bad. They bad more and more; poor man dey cry, rich man dey mess. Sunday Comics. Democrazy.

Monkey men all in business suits; teachers and critics all dance the poot. Are we not men? Sunday Comics!

Mete la mano en el bolsillo, Sunday Comics tu cuchillo y ten cuidao. Pónganme oído, en este barrio muchos guapos lo han matao. Calle Luna, calle sol.

Laughing out loud with fear and hope I’ve got a desperate plan/At the one lane bridge I leave the Sunday Comics at the riverside/Race back to the farm to dream with my uncle at the fireside

Maybe just a dead sign, speaking to my eyes shaking. I can think of a piece of broken fifth hand reaching to my head falling. I can think of closing my eyes tight, I can read the Sunday Comics. They are sounding so cold…

The sky’s alive with turned on television sets, I walk the streets and seek another vision yet…The echo makes me turn to see that last frontier, The Sunday Comics, closes down as I disappear.

We act out all the stereo types, try to use them as decoy — and we become shining examples of the system we set out to destroy. ‘Cause even in the most radical groups you will find that when you read Sunday Comics, you’ve seen hard times. What will we do to become famous and dandy just like Amos and Andy?

Reading Sunday Comics on a cold dark night, I see a halo in the rain around a street light. I stop and look, and listen to the sound as the raindrops penetrate the silence all around. Alone, I gaze into the glistening street, the distant thunder echoing my heartbeat.

I been dipped in double meaning, I been stuck with static cling. Think I got a rupto-pix, I think I read the Sunday Comics! Hold the pickles, hold the lettuce, special orders, don’t upset us. All we ask is that you let us
Serve it your way! There’s too much paranoias.