There are images I need to
complete my own reality
Discovery Angels & Sailors (rich girls) Backyard fences, tents dreams watching each other narrowly Soft luxuriant cars Girls in garages stripped, out to get liquor & clothes Half-gallons of wine & six-packs of beer Tender corral. Jumped. Humped. Born to suffer. Made to undress in the wilderness
- Hey man you want girls Pills grass come-on I show you good time This place has everything Come-on, I show you
Can we resolve the past -- lurking jaws joints of Time -- the base -- to come of age in a dry place -- holes & caves The music was new black polished chrome & came over the summer like liquid night -- the D.J.'s Took pills to stay awake & play for 7 days The General's son had a sister. They went down to see him. They went to the studio & someone knew him. Someone knew the T.V. Showman. He came to our home room party & played records & when he left, in the hot noon sun, & walked to his car, we saw the Chooks had written F-U-C-K on his windshield. He wiped it off w/ a white rag &, smiling cooly, drove away. "He's rich. Got a big car." My friend drove an hour each day from the Mts. The bus gives you a hard-on w/books in your lap. We shot the bird at the black M.P. My gang will get you. Scenes of rape in the arroyo. Seductions in cars, abandoned buildings. Fights at the food stand. The dust. The Shoes Opened shirts & raised collars. Bright sculptured hair. Spades dance best, from the hip. Someone shot the bird on the afternoon dance show. They gave out free records to the best couple.
Always a playground instructor, never a killer. Always a bridesmaid on the verge of fame, or over, he maneuvered 2 girls into his hotel room. One, a friend, and a newer stranger, vaguely Mexican or Puerto Rican. Poor boy's thighs & buttocks, scarred by a father's belt. She's trying to rise. Story of her boyfriend & teen-age stone death games. Handsome cat, dead in a car. Come here I love you. Peace on earth Will you die for me eat me this way the end - I'm surprised you could get it up. He whips her lightly, sardonically w/ belt. - Haven't I been thru enough? she asks. The dark girl begins to bleed. It's Catholic heaven. I have an ancient Indian crucifix around my neck. My chest is hard & brown. Lying on stained & wretched sheets w/ a bleeding Virgin. We could plan a murder, or Start a religion.
I want to tell you about Texas Radio & the Big Beat it comes out of the Virgin Swamps cool & slow w/ plenty of precision & a back beat narrow & hard to master some call it heavenly in its brilliance other mean & rueful of the Western dream I love the friends I have gathered together On this thin raft we have constructed pyramids in honor of our escaping This is the land where The pharaoh died -- Children The river contains specimens The voices of singing women call us on the far shore & they are saying "Forget the Night live w/ us in Forests of azure" (meager food for souls forgot) I tell you this; no eternal reward will forgive us now for wasting the dawn One morning you awoke & the strange sun & opening your door...
"Now listen to this: I'll tell you about Texas Radio & the Big Beat Soft driven slow & mad like some new language Reaching your head w/ the cold & sudden fury of a divine messenger Let me tell you about heartache & the loss of God Wandering, wandering in hopeless night The negroes in the forest brightly feathered let me show you the maiden w/ wrought-iron soul Out here on the perimeter there are no stars Out here we is stoned immaculate"
Time works like acid Stained eyes You see time fly The face changes as the heart beats & breathes We are not constant We are an arrow in flight The sum of the angles of change Her face changed in the car eyes & skin & hair remain the same. But a hundred similar girls succeed each other
The sidewalkers moved faster We joined the current. Suddenly the cops, plastic shields & visors, wielding long thin truncheons like wands, in formation, clearing the street the other way. To get near or stay away. Cafes were taking in tables putting chairs on upside down, pulling teh steel playpen safety bars. Whistles as the vans arrive. Moustached soldiers. We leave the scene. Eyes of youth, wary, gleaming. The church. A pastoral scene of guitars, drums, flutes, harps, & lovers. Past Shakespeare & Co., the restaurants w/ elegant patrons, cross street, the small Jazz district (Story Ville) a miniature New Orleans. Negroes in African shirts. A street brass band. "Fare well to my web footed friends" Crowd smiles, jogs, & sings. Move past. San Michel Blvd. The Statue. The Seine. Bonfires of cardboard buzz evilly, down the blvd. Fire-tenders. Smell of smoke. Approach closer nearer. Suddenly screams long warhoops & the crowd runs back. And as we flee, they attack from behind, Pressed against cafe tables. Subway & news Kiosk -- A girl beaten, her cries. Can't hear blows. Rain. (Man w/ bottle) Join me at the demonstration We join groups under trees & rain. Tall public buildings. Join us at the demonstration
Dreams are at once fruit & outcry
against an atrophy of the senses.
Dreaming is no solution
We awoke, talking. Telling dreams. an explosion during the night A new siren. Not cop, Fire, New York ambulance or european movie riot news but the strange siren predicting war. She ran to the window. The yellow thing had risen.
Fear is a porch where winds slide thru in the North A face at the Window that becomes a leaf An eagle sensing its disaster But soaring gracefully above A rabbit shining in the night
Still wet from a strange dream dawn burst scarring the chamber's roof where all things lie I sat w/ her & sipped cold sherry Airport. (Caesura = ante-room to hell)
Start again: Should the events of those days... Dream of incest & expulsion from the tribe. Big Sister. It's called the clap. Get on over here, mother-of-pearl. I was a virgin. It lasted 10 seconds. Well don't then. "I can't relax." Roll the leather pants up tightly for the morrow hour. They deserted me, deserted the cause, message or word for another god. "We're kicking you out of our universe!" He ask'd for you. I'll bet he did.
Mystery of the dream a woman or girl is trying to appear The Killer -- Mexican, naked except for shoes. People, a family not connected move at hypnotic cross lines out of still frame 2 men, detectives, following searching, sifting thru back & side lit rooms, holding muted counsel. Hats, suits. Brothers. People in a wood, a park. The Killer lurks in his own world. dreams of children & families return to the sub-world to assimilate & guide events New Orleans, sleep, (death's friend, death's sister) cattle, horses faces get rubbery, clown-painted, stupid sly & wise & knowing The mystery of flight To be inside the brain of a bird goal -- the end of a goddess to slide gracefully & knowledgeably into graveland The Big dream vs Violent assassination of Spirit & neck & skull wounded he arrived
The dark American Sunset The night like a vast conspiracy to dream, hold court in the swaying sand Tijuana -- the anus of Night a cartoon of civilization Whores are bores in the American Night What will we see in the bowels of the night, in The frosted cave where dreams are made, right before your eyes. Prophecy w/out money. This song must have the sad common strangeness of currency coin of the realm. Bitter embers. Scent of pine smoke Fire-Night, special breeding exercises. An excuse for crime. High School of the Night. Silence of a school at night.
Acid dreams & Spanish Queens L'america (another?, lone?, voice) Asthma child, the fumidor Lamerica Duchess, rabbit, the woods by the road Lamerica Pearl Harbor -- Shot off the road Lamerica Conceived in a beach Town Lamerica Relevance of beach or Lakes Lamerica Sinks, snakes, caves w/ water Florida Homo/-sex/-uality Lamerica Religion & the Family Lamerica Plane crash in the Eastern Woods Virginia Bailing-out over rice-fields Lamerica Guerrilla band inside the town Lamerica Bitter tree of consciousness Lamerica A fast car in the night -- the road Lamerica Progress of The Good Disease Lamerica
Those indians, dreams, & the cosmic spinal bebop in blue. The cosmic horrors. The cosmic heebeejeebies. A combo of brain tissue, blood, shit, sweat sperm & steel, mixed w/ grease & liquid fire, ovaric calendars Magnified on inner Television lust-face, mirrors into Nothing, great silence opens layers of prehistoric chinese monsters. The mouths, the mouths, the cellular MAW. A young Witch from N.Y. is laying novice hexes on my brain-pan, projecting images of embryo development on my psychology. Her terrified wildness disturbs my generals. Baby, now I dig your nightmare visions, & your sadness & your bitchery But, yet, thank you for These spells. It gets my pen moving. The screaming maggot group-grope called life. It's time for the desert wild. Lust capital. Time for an island, get drunk, write & sail. "I saw the Hell of women back there." Women are obsolete "Little Wine -- dig that girl" We placate women w/ food & song w/ sex, marriage, babies You dig kids, Jim Yeah, some of them are nice I like your wife Democracy of souls
The guided tour "I am a guide to the labyrinth" city is inside of body made manifest meat organs & electrical power plants The place where, walking down death-row ("You look like you're"), maps -- AMERICUS -- a river-vein we ride along. give form to the passing world Freeways are a drama, a new art form. Signs. Houses. Faces. Loud gabble of Blacks at a bus-stop.
car cemetery The abandoned cars The color of car paint, new at night under neon The dead reside in cars -- the old man, filthy, keeper of the graveyard Children, curious, throw stones
please like me says the shrew what can I do? I love her.
Woman's Voice: The palace of sperm seems warm tonight Man: Umm. gloom gloom doom ruin. Woman: Marble porches. The grand ball room. Silver smiles. Trumpets. Dancing Man I want only you Woman This time come in me like an astronaut Send snakes in my orbit Man We can accomplish miracles when we're together. Woman Alone Man w/ the night to guide us
Don't start that panic Love Street parade No one's afraid of the law Someone escaped To the shore Your image of me / my image of you in one-night scenes out on the coast Won't work anymore Soft parade Love Street brigade
I bring these few rags back home this evening & lay them at your feet Miserable witness to a day of tragic sadness & disbelief Hope you'll find me wanting Take me to bed Get me drunk (lay me out)
The bride-to-be lies in her bed listening to Festivities below He steals her -- in a dream
Star fish gluttony What are the word-forms for co(s)mic encounter wedding flesh & mind in one body
Tender island Night And a promise of fever & scars that burst at blossom depths & more green silver Us wrestling in the warm temple of summer beside the temple cool inside -- He took my hand. He spoke to me -- Black horse hooves galloping sun mad chariot race burning mad fiery chariot race mad girl & mad boy My feathered son flew too near to the sun.
a moving or movement away from a station (weigh station) Sound of lone car & low radio A waving [good-bye to relations] a way from | a waving | a motion amazement a moment amazing a waving (call radio breaks in) Uh, we have a message brak brak
He follows a woman into the firmament The solids, sonnets elaborate requisitions for the god-soul ah my bright jewelled town a Widow's band roping sailors & hill-folk together congeal on this flat spire to partake of mineral jets "he's sick" he should be sleeping peaceful by air, a movie of dead nights in a wound, suffer to give out your red-blue lighter's flame w/ calm precision your certainty lives in a match or a mind The huts are free evening cliff-dwellers The trees, losing their variance, die sadly w/ grandeur O soft redness & palest blue like a babie's window This is the hour you rule & invite Ventures, quests, trips to the electric valley down
"Mana Man" He gets them into the dark hour By playing singing stories hypnosis wilderness the island Led out of bondage (back there) Viciously peeling fruit Disguised as "Players" command Performance See-thru village old hot forest of cars cruel ambience Leopard snake dance swift lions of doubt crouch in the window & wait for her to come
do you have straight jackets for the guests yes we do
When the still sea conspires an armor And her sullen and aborted Currents breed tiny monsters, True sailing is dead. Awkward instant And the first animal is jettisoned, Legs furiously pumping Their stiff green gallop, And heads bob up Poise Delicate Pause Consent In mute nostril agony Carefully refined And sealed over
The original temptation was to destroy. The Cliffs. The Road. The Walls. Original heroism -- to bluff the elements of fire. To call creatures into the storm. The original heroism was to fall. To ball. The All. Natural man. To participate in the creation. To screw things up. To bring Things into being. The Crossroads where the car hides. Lies. Resides. A meeting-place of Worlds. Where dreams are made. Where anything is possible. Demons lie. The car is steel & chrome. The wood-pile. Top of the pile. The heap. The graveyard. Where metal is reduced to its common mute element. To be reborn. A tale of rebirth in the wilderness. To become chaos & come back. 2 spade chicks, or a king & queen, comment from the balcony. The types of society pass on the boards. Microcosm in a thimble
times change, damaged cat's blood rectify in haste cactus furrows, wild thrift catalog of grace The chase bore inward raise'd wet & westward shadows To the strange trust on the south bow Augment pure shouter's drawl & light the candle Night is comin' on & we're outnumbered By the waves, each soldier bristling w/ his trowel To search & claim us Teach our burial The mind works wonders for a spell, the lantern breathes enlightens, then farewell Each shipmate oars to under- stand & eyes unoptic strains to hear: We came from over here, to over there Then old we wonder mindless to degree Most seldom furls in slumber, burns begins a century
Planes are groaning mothers In our feeble insect wars. Nylon condoms stream behind her Trojan Warriors on their dreadful writhing flight. Bailed out, sucked from her metal belly, one thin wire is left to prophecy return, jump freely. Swallowing air in the brief canal. The ground leaps up like dogs to snap, the field, & rolling pain. Swamps, rice fields, danger. Gunned down, over ten of them struggling w/ the wet placenta While some land back in oceans. Skin-divers float, free-float, in the uterus. The sea is a Vagina which may be penetrated at any point.
Ah, the rule was war, as friendship faltered. Families quarrelled, as usual, in their chambers. The race suffered. We traveled. We left home & beauty. Ah, into these ship, again, we hastened. The creation of power is slow-wasted. Borrowed fillings. Brace for the brine. Heaven kept, hour dated. Winds fermented madness & kept parlour rife & rancind. Crews took leave of sour concubines & habits. The sea is no place for a lady. Lads larked & frolicked, pulvering waves they would seek into the deep. Ark! Ark! Cathay or Venice. Worlds beyond, & Worlds after. This story has no moral. Trust not sleep or sorrow. The fife-man croons the lull to wake & Brings strong soldiers to a windy beach
India ink, ink of India There are no more rich colors Black neon, blocks away, Escapes back smooth in the desert sea. There's an appearance of sweat on Italian silk skin. Slap the rude face, & twist into the doorway. Then reappear, w/ drums & glass in jewels of laughter as one called "The Gladiator," Hair claimed by flame of fire (Insulting to be back. The dreaded, dismal day.) Jail is a pussy coil, dry as meat, dog-faced, clever. (Handsome dog & the shot gun eye.) We leap the wall, dog & I, To hang choking on fence collar chain. Mate follows leap to suffer String-throat, hollow, madness cry. (In this "hollow" we were born.) Mexican Khaki, the green womb. Distrust all lovely words like green & womb. (Obey the father. Run.) Escape back into the landscape, dry as meat, dusty, narrow. Dog licks shit Mexican girl whore sucks my prick. (Open windows on the town. Open pores on foreign air.) The car rasps quiet. Motor destroys itself on rotten fuel. The pump is ill. The hose has a steel nozzle.
Flesh of her rolls flesh away in waves, The waters part dry scalps beneath the hair nude-white & very rare And when she exits bed, the barge To bathe in ocean's tile & under surgeon's glare, blinking I bask on the red floor of a Red Sea Crime begins in the bed, the home, It's a low tide that talks to rocks, & leaves rust in its wake, & dry things crackling.
I fucked the dregs of the ruins of an empire I fucked the dust and the horrible queen I fucked the chick at the gates of the Maya I fucked all your women & treated the same w/ respect for your warriors returned from the Kingdom fucked w/ the Negroes in cabs of the drivers Fucked little infants of North Indo-China Branded w/ Napalm & screaming in pain
pencilled heaven my regards no when to stop
There's someone at the door. A rapist rushes in. No pain. No death. It's us, over & over again. We're coming in. All right, search the place. You won't find anything. Seeing all perspectives at once. When everything freezes & kind of turns back in on itself.
feast green beast, spurred on by sex, seasoned in silence, w/held from slumber, silent in the deep pale night beast languid a cool a cunt a forest flower awoken now breathe utter a word of reproach for fair swifty flyers agon of night The dream car the outlaw star now he sits reclines in a terrible mansion made more monstrous by the dark stroke of slumber The car is purple foil beast dead in the night. Neon is its sign his rich home soft luxuriant car death gave grace shaken to the soil He stood in a strange centre by the meeting pt. of worlds This crossroads of desert flies the corpse of sand batteries the ignition What did happen! He screams at camera Here she lie bleeding, blue wounds just to tell us in our floppy hats it's over. The cops are rubber animals w/ surgeons cold pride, w/out their glamour. The ambulance attendants are sudden amateurs, good-natured in this foreign chore. The cliffs no longer contain faces. "I know what jail is like" & "I know about time." So we played the carnival. Car. Carne. Feast of meat. Celebration of blood. O lucky ones who enjoy the dumb show The reptile farm. The snake farm. Woman & Monkey. The sign. The sign. Search for the Tree. The place. The sink Big Dismal Goes in 2 ways. Spirit & Meat. (sex) You cannot join what can't be joined You cannot travel 2 roads (He road off in all directions) Hand Grenade
Very brave all the rage to tempt loneliness upon Front page gold head lines w/ Ali Khan & all the rest Onassis, Blues BB Albert Collins gin & tonic give him a high martin i get him down the prancing clown will bring the empire swooping swirling Tunneling Thundering Tumbling hell, O, down (That's as down as I can get right now, on a Mainstream, & I am pretty high, far gone) Thank god I have the Sweet warm promise of a woman there to keep me warm So this is where my fine warm poetry (pottery) has got me, led me back to Madness & the men who made me
You think I don't know that! your poetry is so obsessed I like my madmen cold The abandoned Hotel flowers dirt on its walls The labyrinth of bowels Moves slowly in grim waste Children play here, wait & sway here, tiring to her swoon arched summer and languid by the bow Sits Esther, made up like a queen, port in a storm, striking fire-bells in her drawers, chalking the black street w/ wild lies
O how could this be done to me great dancer's Witness God, you are a satyr in disguise Thus cruelly & uselessly to Rend my life awry I'll lie here stolen, in cold wind in the road, until peace freezes over, & hallows me. Rude ghost bastard. Ah! Who comes now.
an afternoon of summer dread I'm afraid to meet all the rest of my brothers in distress Couldn't we get in one big Movie Blow it all on one Grand Floozie & end it all YAH YEAH an autograph sends respects to her Twin everyone wants a Christ & no one will give it to him Mohammed, the enchanter Keeper of Harems Buddha, inkindergardened under his tree, w/ not a moon-glow mindless Thought for you & me (This does not mean I want or wish to be prey to people God forbid) & look at the steeple a mindless wit am I dickless, looking at the sky
a hole in the clouds where a mind hides Pagodas -- temples in child's raw hope animal in a tunnel defined by the light around him These evil subsidies these shrouds surround
If it's no problem, why mention it. Everything spoken means that, it's opposite, & everything else. I'm alive, I'm dying.
The end of the rainbow put all my screaming phantasies into one giant Box-trap image of self-image-propagation image of elation Ungulation limit 1st tree image of Utopia a slaughter of phantoms innocent -- guilty The Human World bounded by words & dust sweet soft & velvet dust medium trust
Heaven or Hell the circus of your actions To Play (chance is god here) at Carnival assuage the guilt The deep fear The separate loneliness open Sinygog open sesame The Party of new connections mind made free Love cannot save you from your own fate Art cannot soothe Words cannot tame The Night
Scour the mind w/ diamond brushes. Cleanse into Mandalas. Memory keeps us wicked & warm. The Time temple. Who'll go 1st? Cloaked figures huddled by walls. A head moves clocklike slowly. I'm coming. Wait for me.
Lessons on becoming a revolutionary an actor (prophet!) or a poet There's still good friends to assist & relieve you Mercenary whim for her or for him First become a Visionary-Scientist radiocal biochemical aviationary sky-diver Then contact your local pub- lic accountant (he'll tell you how to spread the seeds of doubt)
Maids are bickering in the hall The day is warm Last night's perfume I lie alone in this cool room My mind is calm & swirling like the marble pages of an old book I'm a cold clean skeleton scarecrow on a hill in April Wind eases the arches of my boney Kingdom Wind whistles thru my mind & soul My life is an open book or a T.V. confession
I wish a storm would come & blow this shit away. Or a bomb to burn the Town & scour the sea. I wish clean death would come to me.
If only I could feel The sound of the sparrows & feel child hood pulling me back again If only I could feel me pulling back again & feel embraced by reality again I would die Gladly die
It has been said that on birth we are trying to find a proper womb for the growth of our Buddha nature, & that on dying we find a womb in the tomb of the earth. This is my father's greatest fear. It shouldn't be. Instead, he should be trying to find me a better tomb.
The end of the dream will be when it matters all things lie Buddha will forgive me Buddha will
-- The cycle begins anew a luring lulling sick-sad maddening haunting ego-familiar strain calls the wayward wanderer home again a music mosaic made of all image tune preceding The whistle or warm woman's cry that calls the child home from play
Thank you, O Lord For the white blind light A city rises from the sea I had a splitting headache from which the future's made.