Most pictures and words from Anthony C Murphy

Friday, 8 March 2013


I've seen a bearded baby here
That never made the news
Unlike the fearless lady
With her daily tattooed shoes
I heard tell there was a politician
Who smiled without a tooth
She was just invented yesterday
So appeals to this year’s youth
There are newborns every minute here
There are punters by the score
Mods obsessed with yesteryear
Are always back for more
Lots of freakish normalcy down at The Bowery Dime Museum
All expositions for a dollar you should come and see ‘em
There are eunuchs’ sons from antiquity
In virgins’ daughters laps
And two faced tv presenting monkeys
Who offer each other claps
Lots of modern freakery down at The Bowery Dime Museum
If you perchance can spare a dollar then you’ll get to see ‘em
Roll up here for the bombardier, armless in his trousers
See the Kaiser’s wax moustache tackled by some Scousers
Underneath the trestle are mice as big as cats
And once inside the armoire they procreate with rats
There are cage free Wall Street tigers
Exclaiming carpe diem
But you'll be safe
They've got the dope down at the Bowery Dime Museum
There’s an elephant painting tables
And a pig that waits your easel
There’s a stoat in a coat
Created by Zeus
And a naked lady weasel
Lots of yadda yadda
Down at the dumdy dum
You should pickle herring
It’s possibly more fun
There’s salad that’s eating models
There’s fags that are smoking butts
There’s sex starved Sheeney on his hole machine
Siphoning his nuts
Paradoxes down on the Bowery
That give only one way to read it
You may be the Earl of Big Fuck Hall
They'll call you a feckin' eegit
Lots of smoke and mirrors
Down at The Bowery Dime Museum
You’re not worth the price of entry
If you can’t even see ‘em

Wednesday, 6 March 2013


A crew of dark eyed juncoes
Quarrel in the trees
With ubiquitous old world sparrows
And a banditry of chickadees
Call to their sweeties
Beneath a boil 
Of hawks
Yet we do not care
For the air
Under foot
And we get on with anyone
Until dusk

Tuesday, 5 March 2013


by Li Bo

   A cup of wine, under the flowering trees;
獨酌無相親。   I drink alone, for no friend is near.
舉杯邀明月。   Raising my cup I beckon the bright moon,
對影成三人。   For he, with my shadow, will make three men.
月既不解飲。   The moon, alas, is no drinker of wine;
影徒隨我身。   Listless, my shadow creeps about at my side.
暫伴月將影。   Yet with the moon as friend and the shadow as slave
行樂須及春。   I must make merry before the Spring is spent.
我歌月徘徊。   To the songs I sing the moon flickers her beams;
我舞影零亂。   In the dance I weave my shadow tangles and breaks.
醒時同交歡。   While we were sober, three shared the fun;
醉後各分散。   Now we are drunk, each goes his way.
永結無情遊。   May we long share our odd, inanimate feast,
相期邈雲漢。   And meet at last on the Cloudy River of the sky.

translated by Arthur Waley