Michael LaBash
![]() Great show last night (Barb Golden's Crack'O'Dawn on KPFA, Berkeley)! There's nothing like hanging out on the radio with you, Barb! And I love the exchange with that caller who thought I was a racist for singing along with Bessie Smith! We survived doing two intense performances in one day. We did WRAPPING/ROCKING yesterday afternoon on the UCB campus for may day. Kirsten went to the restroom before the performance. the audience of students came before she got back to the classroom. So they sat on the floor, watching nude me, Linda, and Mikee rocking in the strobe lights with slides projected on our bodies. There was a tape of my poem WRAPPING/ROCKING being read over and over to body music. I rocked, made sounds, and beckoned to the students until kirsten came in only a couple of minutes later. So by accident she appeared to be an audience member. So when she undressed, got on my lap facing me, started rocking with me very sexy/intimately making noises, it ripped up reality. She and I were a living maypole (going back to the primal maypole ritual). Linda and Mikee wrapped us and the students together in a web of toilet paper, cellophane, and tin foil which made great sounds when anybody moved. After we were released from the web, I interviewed Kirsten (who found out for the first time that she was an audience member who didn't know me) about why she did what she did. She improvised "for an adventure ... my life is full of adventures." We did the interview while she was still on my lap. The students were completely blissed out! It is absoloutely amazing what we are sneaking in under the radar at the university! CULTURAL SUBVERSION! |
May Day
UC Berkeley
California
Friday
May 1
2003 ![]() Click for blowup of the LaBash poster. |
wrapping and rocking copyrighted 1986/1995 by frank moore the two nude figures sit in time and space. one upon the other. rocking together. rocking in their cave. two magic figures rocking together against time. rocking back through time. back and forth. mother rocking her baby. rocking against sickness and tears. rocking back into love and peace. in the cave, unseen except by the spirits, the holymen rock out of this reality of personal isolation of greys. rock until they rock into the pulse of pure light. back and forth until at-one-ness came, until atonement came... not just for them... but those outside the cave. magic rocking. passion rocking. almost sexual, not quite... very sexual... beyond sexual. two bodies rocking together, rubbing isolation away. grandpa sits in his rocking chair, slowly holding onto creaking passion of living. lovers dance, rocking back and forth to the music. sometimes fast. sometimes slow. passion rises warm and comforting. pain and grief disappear. a kid holding onto a blanket, rocks back and forth, holding onto the wrapping that holds us all together. colorful ribbons of our cocoon. the 2 lovers pumping hard on the swing, working together to get the highest thrilling flying and swooshing drop on their bellies and, yes, in their loins. almost sexual, but not quite.... very sexy... beyond sex. mere sex would get in the way of the child-like melting of earth and sky. back and forth, up and down, wrapping us together in brightness and softness and the magical commonness. a girl laughs on a big old rocking horse. a g.i. holding his guts in, blood oozing out, rocks on the battlefield... rocks to keep life in and pain out. light pulses, reflected off tin and plastic. daddy rocking baby to sleep on his lap. cozy togetherness in ribbons, rocking by the fire far away from reality. the arab woman, on her knees beside the unrecognizable remains of her husband rocking to handle grief and pain. a crazy rocks on the street corner, talking to beings from another reality. wrap us up cozy. wrap us warmly. maypole dancers with ribbons. admit that we all are wrapped up together in see-through ties. the gypsy woman, eyes closed, rocks back and forth, giving master spirits her voice and her body to speak through. rocking in her tent. the boys rocking uncontrollable from laughter at their childish pranks. rocking surrealistic in the darkness, in their colorful bonds, the two nude figures, using magical passion to melt together, rock like the blind, like the insane, like the holy men, like lovers... and the magical melting spreads out of the cave and into the world. |
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