Jayne Mansfield's Dog

by Alex Rawls


Jane Mansfield's Dog is

Fell Swoop 52




The Andy Warhol Diaries:

Friday, September 22, 1978


Cabbed over to Studio 54 and then when we got there, the place was packed. Tom Seaver was adorable. Barbara Walters didn’t come at all. Ken Norton was there. The Duran Duran kids came by and they brought some bigger and taller girlfriends. Had a bowl of chili. Joe said he had a "film on the fire," but that’s what he said the last time. Roger Moore was wonderful and charming. Halston had a big fish. He’ll probably break my back so I’ll have to keep going to him.

I had the first really nice chat with Jackie O., but I don’t remember what it was about. I think she’s really worried about getting her permanent walking papers from Mick. He didn’t put feathers in her hair this time. And then I was dancing with everybody else -all the girls-and it was a new thing. When I started to dance with Phyllis I didn’t know that she can’t go backwards so I fell on her and then gave up.





Elvis Called Me at 4:30 One Morning Last Year

Sorry to call so late; did I wake you

I was afraid I’d wake you but I was sitting here,

y’know, sitting here and I thought,

I ought to call somebody,

‘cause I was thinkin’, I was thinkin’,

this can be a cruel world, y’know,

I was thinkin’, this world can be cruel,

people can be awfully . . . cruel, cruel

if ya give ‘em a chance, they’ll eat ya alive,

they’ll screw ya if they can,

but they’ll smile, god love ‘em,

they’ll smile while they eat ya alive,

‘cause people can be awfully cruel,

but I was thinkin’, I was flippin’ through my wallet

not lookin’ for anything or anything,

just lookin’, seein’ what’s there

and I found some receipts I never threw out,

I just kept ‘em, and there’s some

what d’ya call ‘ems, automatic bank things,

slips, those things that come out with your money,

I usually throw those away, but once in a while,

I guess I kept ‘em, and while I was flippin’ through

I found a picture of Lisa Marie

and I was thinkin’, I remember one time

I was watchin’ at the window,

I was watchin’ while Lisa Marie,

she was racin’ her golf cart around the grounds,

David was drivin’ her, she was racin’ around,

and she had this friend, what’s ‘er name

Jane, Jenny, Jessica, something,

and they were racin’ around, and what’s ‘er name,

Jenny, Jenny’s hair was blowin’

and it was Fall, ‘cause I remember watchin’

and I was thinkin’, they’re gonna get leaves in their hair

and I was watchin’ their hair blow

and their skirts, they blew

and I was watchin’ and I was thinkin’,

-it was Fall- ‘cause I was thinkin’

that’s gotta be kind of cold, maybe Lisa Marie needs a sweater,

and then David drove her off and what’s ‘er name,

Jenny, Jenny followed, and they went out of sight

for five, ten, fifteen or so minutes

and while they were gone,

while they were gone, I thought,

I hope they’re not too cold,

it’s gotta be cold out there

but they came back, laughin’,

they were laughin’, Lisa Marie and what’s ‘er name,

Jenny, and I went down to see ‘em

and I asked, are ya havin’ fun,

I always asked, are ya havin’ fun,

and Lisa Marie said yeah, and what’s ‘er name,

Jenny, Jenny said yeah

but in the picture I have, she’s not in a golf cart,

she’s on a horse, and in the picture

her hair is blowin’ and I got worried,

worried she’d get leaves in her hair

but no leaves, no leaves in the picture

but she’s wearin’ a sweater so it must have been Fall

‘cause it looks like it was cold out there.





Dean Martin’s California Terror

Dean is worried, what if an earthquake hits,

The Earthquake, and all the state’s golf courses

fall into the sea Dean is worried

What if rocks heave up

punching shards of granite through

the once pristine fairways,

rolling tall trees and shrubs,

breaking up greens like chocolate chip cookies

Dean is worried

What else is there in retirement

but golf, and why work if not to retire,

and what if chasms open,

draining the sand from fairway bunkers

into the spreading crevasse,

making the course unplayable

What will I do, he worries.





Jayne Mansfield’s Dog

Check Hollywood Babylon -

Close-up: Jayne’s car

in four parts on the road to New Orleans.

The door panel’s bloodied, a Seagram’s bottle

lies by a hank of hair.

In the foreground is her dog.





Close Watch

"Hmmmmmm," he hummed

as if thinking

"what’ll I say"

and before he says "I keep a close watch

on this heart of mine"

you know he does.

It’s what he’s thinking about.

But what is he watching

This isn’t a city song

There aren’t floozies or tramps

or even good girls here. This place

is a desert or a field

or the side of a mountain.

He hasn’t seen a woman beside

his momma and his sister

if he’s seen them.

Who’s he watching out for

"I find myself alone when

each day’s through."

He’s looking around the room.

His shack in the desert

or on the side of a hill

is 10 ft by 10 ft and has

a stove, a lamp and a porch.

He sits on the porch

with a cup of coffee

and watches the night.

He reads and re-reads the Old Testament.

"I’ll admit that I’m a fool

for you" he says

looking at a picture on the wall

and that woman

whoever she is

wherever she is

is the only thing between us

and him

and the urge to kill

that rises each day with the sun.





The Andy Warhol Diaries:

Tuesday, August 8, 1981


Cabbed to Chembank ($4). Danny Fields was next to me and he had a great idea for a movie like Saturday Night Fever, about a boy who’s straight but wants to be the best faggot in town because he sees all the fags having such a good time and he thinks it would be more fun. Cabbed to Union Square ($3). Victor made a chicken. Dennis Hopper came by and was watching me photograph the nude boy, but Victor didn’t know who Dennis was and threw him out. Cabbed up with Jamie and Arnold to a lunch at Elaine’s for Arnold’s movie Pumping Iron. Then we had barbecued steaks and all the talking was gay gay gay. Oh, and one of the Ramones was having brain surgery yesterday because he was kicked in the head on West 10th Street in a fight over some cheap-looking girl.





Dick Clark’s Easygoing Guide to Good Grooming

Because I enjoy looking and feeling well-groomed, I have made a study of the subject. However, a chemical substance has recently been discovered that appears to affect the growth of hair. It also comes in a tube and can be applied with your finger. Not dull, but not wild either. Now rotate your legs in a small circle first clockwise, then counterclockwise. The procedure is called blapheroplasty and it takes about twenty minutes. My experts tell me the powder is more efficient. The scar becomes unattractively gnarled and spreads beyond the site of the original injury.

We keep piling in the mashed potatoes and flour gravy, the over-cooked lima beans, the well done beef brisket. So the bacteria that come to feed get stuck, turn into hordes, and intensify the smell. Don’t fool around on your own; you’re liable to make it worse or hurt yourself. A man’s buttocks clearly defined in a pair of tight-fitting pants was too bold, or perhaps not manly. Isobel Contendo said that the mushiness of cooked vegetables, as well as their taste and smell, seem to be a part of the turn off. According to Dr. Klein and Dr. Sternberg, the good lady was just trying another way to make you drink your milk. Dr. Selye calls it the Deviation (or Diversion) Technique. But that isn’t good grooming in its truest sense. But again, that’s my personal opinion.

I personally don’t dye my hair, but if you do, go to a professional colorist. There is a definite difference. It makes everyone think of Johnny Cash in prison. Small chunks of scalp and hair follicles are taken from the existing hair and planted in areas bored out in the bald areas. But that’s not what health experts mean by obesity. They’re all over your body, except on your lips and genitals. I’ll take the middle ground on this one. With or without sleeves, dress shirts and sport shirts open the door to a lot of high-spirited, self-expressive improvisation. And if you don’t want to do all that, treat yourself to a professional manicure. The end result is couperose skin, in which veins are clearly and permanently visible. Some people are perfectly comfortable with theirs. If you squeeze your buttocks properly, your pelvis should rise slightly off the floor. Combine one cup of lemon juice with the butter, thyme, pepper and Tobasco sauce in a small bowl. Grow the hair out full, then do some trimming and shaving. Believe me, there’s nothing feminine about any of this. Nobody looks like a professional wrestler. In a word, popcorn works as a laxative, which ain’t bad compared to the bran and some of the stuff in bottles with odd colors. In that sense, then, good grooming comes naturally to me.





Jazz Bio

( - ) is best known for with and, particularly on. began at age playing with in, then became a fixture in busy scene, gigging with, , and before meeting. They formed playing in prestigious club for years and recording the classic during this period. also played with who helped establish the style that became signature.

playing was grounded in, but tone and facility with kept in demand thought the, but spent in jail after a conviction for, then moved to years later. met expatriate in and recorded the underrated live at a club in in. returned to in, but found changes in tastes left gift for underappriated.

latter years spent living in and, touring regularly and periodically reuniting with for gigs at until a accident left unable to instrument. died in after suffering a.





God Only Knows

When Brian Wilson got on the plane in 1964

His father Murry was sitting in every seat.

Brian hadn’t yet written "God Only Knows."

He had written "Surfer Girl."

Brian knew as much about surfing as a kid in Nebraska.

When I was a kid my family drove through Nebraska.

Brian’s brother Dennis surfed.

He told Brian about surfing.

If not for Dennis,

Brian’s songs would have been about french fries,

which he loved.

Brian was cool before he was a Beach Boy.

He had friends.

He drove to the beach for french fries and to meet girls.

When he got on the plane

Murry was in the cockpit clearing the plane for takeoff.

He was wearing a pilot’s hat.

Brian was still in high school.

He had a girlfriend.

Actually, his songs would have been about her if not for Dennis.

Some were about her anyway.

Brian would have written love songs if not for Dennis.

He was a teenager then.

He knew as much about love as I did in high shool.

When Brian got on the plane

Murry was in the co-pilot’s seat.

He went through preflight procedures.

He was drinking a cup of coffee.

Long before Brian got on the plane

he made "Don’t Worry Baby."

It was a tribute to Phil Spector and "Be My Baby."

Brian loved Phil Spector.

He wanted his records to sound like Phil Spector records.

When Phil Spector asked Brian to play piano on one of his records,

Brian choked. Brian suffered from stage fright.

After the plane, Brian made "Pet Sounds" by himself.

He hired other musicians.

The Beach Boys just sing on it.

There are no songs about surfing on "Pet Sounds."

There are no songs about cars on "Pet Sounds."

Brian didn’t know much about cars.

He knew how to drive them

to get french fries and to see his girlfriend.

Cousin Mike Love told him all about cars.

He knew as much about cars as I did in 1964.

In 1964, I was three.

When Brian got on the plane

Murry was greeting passengers at the door.

He was wearing a white blouse and a blue skirt.

He reminded the Beach Boys

to stow their carry-on luggage under the seat.

Murry wanted them to be big.

The Beach Boys got scared on stage

but people loved them.

Murry wanted the Beach Boys to go

anywhere people loved them.

The girl Brian loved didn’t love him.

He wrote songs about her anyway.

Mike Love married a girl because he got her pregnant.

They fought most of the time.

Murry would hit Brian if he wasn’t good on stage.

Dennis would drown long after the plane ride.

He was swimming while drunk.

Murry was already dead.

Murry made one record called "The Many Moods of Murry Wilson."

When Brian Wilson got on the plane

Murry offered people little pillows

and magazines in hard plastic wrappers.

When the Beach Boys got on the plane,

Brian saw Murry Murry Murry

Murry Murry Murry Murry.

Brian fell in the aisle convulsing.

He made a noise like a seal.

He sounded like a seagull eating french fries.

He sounded like a truck backing up.

He sounded like someone tired of being told

"Insert the tab into the buckle to fasten your seat belt."





Like Moses Parting the Red Sea

The ambulance drivers, the paramedics, doctors and nurses all got a big kick out of treating the King turn right and shake a leg and turn left and shake a leg the constant movement helps keep the fat off The next day I went outside and all the limbs on the evergreen tree behind the window were scorched and singed word of mouth spread The lip, the hip, and the spirit -it’s all there I thought they were kidding This is, after all, a magic show When I sang Danny Boy, I looked at him and he looked at me and smiled Then I jumped up on my feet and the girls were screaming I still knock them dead I couldn’t wish for anything more





The Andy Warhol Diaries:

Thursday, December 19, 1984


Cabbed to Interview to the office party to try to feel Christmasy. Jean-Michel called from Hawaii and talked a long time. Oh and the best person at the party who I just love is Truman’s niece who now works for Interview as the stylist. Robert Hayes was there and Cisco, his boyfriend, who’s dying of AIDS, and I guess I got really freaked out and I couldn’t deal with it. I decided to sort of booze it up.

Did a personal errand for Jon, but he made me promise not to put anything personal about him in the Diary.

Jean-Michel came by. We cabbed down to the Castelli Gallery to see the Jasper Johns show. The Kennedy kid, David, was the big headline. I mean, everybody who’s seen that Scavullo show he did said - well I mean, he’s colored the eyes and lips and done double portraits, everything just like mine. Rod Stewart and Madonna and Cyndi Lauper and Bette Midler and Dan Ackroyd and Peter Wolf were there.

I got home and watched Tyrone Power in Jesse James.





The Skunk King of Las Vegas

So I saw Wayne on TV the other night

playing a guitar

and it hits me:

that hair is black

like, really black,

like, not-found-in-nature black.

Shoe polish is black

but this is like the Bermuda Triangle of hair:

a black hole.

It bends radio waves

and sucks communication satellites

out of their orbits.

NASA ought to investigate

but they’d have to get in line

behind the FBI, the IRS

and the juvenile authorities . . .

something about videotaping 16 year-olds

playing naked on his horse ranch.

A guy from his road crew confirmed that one.

Wayne sat there

in nothing but boxers

with a camcorder and a tray of coke beside him

and I mean

a tray of coke

a cafeteria tray

with coke stacked up like mashed potatoes.

He kept one hand on his crotch

and taped with the other


beautiful baby

and when he wanted a toot,

get this

he called his coke wrangler

a handler

or a caddy

or whatever

to bring him a line

and this guy

it’s his job to scoop coke

on the tip of a Bowie knife

with a turquoise handle,

hold it under Wayne’s nose

and say


That way

Wayne never gets distracted.





That Picasso

Sinatra put his hat on his head

and he thought

"That cat Picasso -

he says he paints someone from all angles.

People like that.

People like Picassos"

and he thought

"How could I put my hat on

so I look like a Picasso"

It took him seven hats to do it

and he felt ridiculous

but that Picasso had something he didn’t have

"People respect that cat"

he thought

"he has class."

With all his hats ajaunt

he took a Marks-a-lot

and drew lines bisecting his face

then bisecting it again

and bisecting it one more time

until he looked the same from all angles.

From the roof of the Sands

he looked at Vegas at night

-all lines of light that went this way and that way.

No matter where he stood on the roof

no matter which way he looked

it always looked the same

just like roulette table

or a bingo card

or a tote board

"Just like that Picasso would make it"

he thought.





Monica’s Story

intense sexual exchange. me the full a glow about a sexual energy.

talking about. He gave magnetic. He exudes there were butterflies

breathing came a the crowd disappeared tummy. He has

I thought to little faster and It’s the way the smile disappeared

see what all a brief but myself, "Now I He undressed me

was time to women. When it a beat. My My heart skipped

the rest of fluttering in my was this look Bill Clinton. It

he flirts with the girls are with his eyes. shake my hand

love, and I’m some of whom statement I was all gone. At

especially in a tired of everyone taken away from hit by the

so much time hard to talk on my relationship hard. It was

don’t have him and with his know that it’s much right now.

with me and It has been want to harm in my life

an emotional day anymore. I felt it’s hard to feel that for

the last year everyone has spent It was so hard his spirit was

about the relationship miss him so picking it apart. my emotion, my

felt like crying the president. I the end I people. I just

me by these roomful of strangers because it was fact that I

time. will always be she used to a man and

all of the that door frequently. Even though there now sees him

for Handsome, she in Monica’s heart Now she says compared to how

as all politician a president, she a small room see him as

no longer opens





Good With His Feet

Johnny Cash was good with his feet.

When Luther kept screwing up the simplest riff

time and again

he’d tap

and tap

his foot.

When fans crowded around him for autographs

for themselves or for their kids

he’d turn

on his heel

and walk.

When promoters tried to rip him off

and cheat him out of his money

he’d kick their balls

and their ribs

and poise his boot heel

over their throats.

Johnny Cash was good with his feet.





The Andy Warhol Diaries:

Sunday, February 19, 1985


Went to church.

Cabbed to Kitty Miller’s for Easter lunch. I talked to Peter Schjeldahl the art critic who I know hates me, but I was working hard for him to like me, so we talked about Ted Berrigan dying from diet pills and Coke - the soda. And Clemente the Italian artist was there, and gee, I like him a lot - he’s picked up the American attitude.

Cabbed downtown ($5) to the new chic supermarket at Park Avenue and 18th Street, the Food Emporium, but a gay guy there made my sandwiches and so I couldn’t eat them. Went to the Trump Tower and laid out a stack of Interviews and watched people take them for free. Then had to leave and it was snowing by then. Took a valium and forgot about the world.





Tijuana Bible

Olive said, "Popeye -

is your arm

the only thing that gets hard

when you eat

your spinach"

A crudely-drawn Popeye asked,

"Why Olive

Do you have a big can

for me"

He said,

"I’ve got something for you,"

"and you can be sure

it ain’t no Swee’ Pea."

Olive panted, "Oh Popeye -

come here

and gimme a pipeful!"





The Song of Himself

Inspiration came as inspiration comes

-with the waitress-

"You had the open face turkey on white"

Elvis answered, dumbstruck, "I am a mall."

"I am Thom McCann shoestores with pumps and heels and hiking boots;

what’s more, I am B. Dalton Books and all it contains.

I’m all those books. I’m so many books."

Climbing the back of his naugahyde bench

he told the couple beneath him

"Toys R Us, I’m Toys R Us, and I love my name, Toys R Us, Toys R Us.

I am rows and rows of Fischer-Price toys

and dolls for girls, and Power Rangers,

I’m a Mighty Morphin Ranger for boys.

I’m a skateboard, an Easy-Bake Oven, Donkey Kong Country;

I’m Scrabble; I’m a trike."

His bench could not contain him;

he tumbled down to the floor

and once there, he crowed,

"I’m Victoria’s Secret.

How could I not be

How could I not be a roomful of panties and bras

I’m all the things that make a woman a woman.

I’m all the fabrics, those fabulous fabrics. I’m satin, I’m lace,

I’m frilly, I’m sheer.

I’m the King goddam it! I can be sheer if I want to and so much more!"

He leapt, spitting - he spun on one foot:

"I’m Foot Locker. I’m Athelete’s Foot. I’m all ‘foot’ stores rolled into one.

I’m Nike Air Jordans, I’m deck shoes, I’m Chuck Taylors,

I’m boots, Hightops and lowcuts,

I’m America’s shoes and I carry its weight.

That’s my job - I am the Shoe.

"And this place -"

his forepaw wiped the diner away

"this place -"

his eyes swirled in his head in different directions

when he rubbed his itchy butt hard against a chair

"Who’ll need this place I’m America’s food court!

I’m Taco Bell, I’m Manchu Wok. I’m Orange Julius and souvlaki on a bun.

I’m "Caution: Wet Floor." I’m designer cookies, Subway and thick-cut fries.

I am the official launch pad of young American love, or maybe lust.

I am young lust, and old lust and marriage and death!"

Then inspiration went as inspiration goes

-"Would y’all like some more tea"-

with the waitress.





Big Swing Face

Johnny Carson beamed,

playing "mommy-daddys"

with pencils on his desk

making goo goo eyes at a Buddy Rich

already aswing and asweat

his cavebrow shielding cocaine eyes

unaccustomed to that damned light

New (for him) Beatle hair

swoops over his expanding forehead

the Jackson Pollock polyester shirt hides a waistline

growing like alimony payments

After a little karate talk

a few thrusts

a broken board

Buddy leads Doc Severinsen

and the Tonight Show Band in

. . .something . . . and to my young ears

it sounded like a trap

twenty musicians chewing their cuds

reading their charts

deaf to Buddy’s VietVet-like




. . . and they were dead as veins no one has -like suspension bridge supports- throb in his neck and temples He’s one 8x10 of an ex-wife away from throwing his sticks at Ed’s fool fuckin’ head and playing with his fists smashing them through the skins up to his biceps shreading fuckin’ Slingerlands-can’t even make a decent snare- ply by ply reducing them to wood pulp The lugnuts, bolts, fitting and hardware he grabs by the handful and for three minutes or more, it seems he shrapnel-like carpet bombs the audience

17 killed 17 killed 17 killed 20 more injured 20 more injured 20 more injured 222 in intensive care

Johnny beams,

plays another paradiddle on his desk

"Buddy Rich


Give’m a hand."



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