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Putting the Head Loonie in Charge of the Tunes

Name: Putting the Head Loonie in Charge of the Tunes
Author: Leslie Allen

putting the head loonie

in charge of the tunes

a poem by

Leslie Allen

Shakespir Edition

putting the head loonie in charge of the tunes

We sing crazy

tune blues

atonal

bebop, scat

free jazz

move

freely

liquid limbs

eyes and ears open

heart too

to each movement

and beat

beat that moves us

beat that beats us

shuffle our feet

raggedy time riff

these layering octaves

improvise, baby,

blow your own horn

haven’t you heard?

the head loonie’s

in charge of the tunes

We sing now and dance

create our own music

a string of black notes

in half-time and dance

whole notes and dance

make him dance

yeah sucker

dance!

pow pow pow!

bullets off spurs

make him dance

like a puppet with

strings

cut the strings and

they fall

have you heard?

the head loonie’s

in charge of the tunes

you’d think we’d

be singing a dirge

Atempo

anada

a cartwheel

a slide

oh boy!

the cacophony

makes my head spin

my feet glide

my hands twirl

a whirly gig gig

a whirly gig muck

gone amuck

such luck

did your hear?

the head loonie’s

in charge of the tunes

Feed me your quarters

i’ll play you a tune

two tunes

three!

four!

all at once

GIVE ME YOUR QUARTERS!

give what you want

whatever you ask for

i’ll give you a dance

limbs gone a-loose

sing you a tune

three-quarter time

half here

half there

grab your partner

anywhere

grab your damn partner

anywhere!

haven’t you heard?

the head loonie’s

in charge of the tunes

Make love, make war

make succotash i say

al dente

al franken

all aboard

the ship’s gonna sink!

she’s gonna blow!

we’ll go down together

we’ll rise up together

make it song

make it wrong

make it right

make it play

whatever you do

christ

make it play

and we’ll pray

and we’ll sing

hallelujah

it sounds –

is there gospel

in here? –

hallelujah

did you hear?

they put the head loonie

in charge of the tunes

you’d think we’d

be singing a dirge

He owns the tunes

that’s what i hear

and he owns the shoes

the socks

the floor

we twirl upon

it’s gold! it’s magic!

but you’re not allowed

(here, take

a number)

and rhumba

rhumba rhumba

the macareigna

– woo! –

the subversives

go smoking

and glower

“don’t dance”

hang out in the alley

behind the juke joint

where the head loonie’s

– mad –

haven’t you heard?

the head loonie’s

in charge of the tunes

We howl

we cry

we spit out spittoons

we blow up ballons

we are gone too soon

see the footsteps

on the floor

no minuet in g

one two three

can you count

to four?

the waltz

the split

but strike up the band

the potato mashed

free dance

free sing

heil hitler

prof. harold hill

so proud

it’s a mess

it’s a mosh

it’s the pits

put a quarter in the jukebox

the jukebox that’s rigged

to play tunes

yesteryear

lovely days

gone by

creepy old tunes

love and fear

run run!

hide hide!

there will be no rhyme!

no rhyme

nor reason

for haven’t you heard?

they put the head loonie

in charge of the tunes

& you’d think we’d

be singing a dirge

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