An American Prayer Do you know the warm progress under the stars? Do you know we exist? Have you forgotten the keys to the kingdom? Have you been born yet & are you alive? Let's reinvent the gods, all the myths of the ages Celebrate symbols from deep elder forests (Have you forgotten the lessons of the ancient war) We need great golden copulations The fathers are cackling in trees of the forest Our mother is dead in the sea Do you know we are being led to slaughters by placid admirals & that fat slow generals are getting obscene on young blood Do you know we are ruled by T.V. The moon is a dry blood beast Guerrilla bands are rolling numbers in the next block of green vine amassing for warfare on innocent herdsmen who are just dying O great creator of being grant us one more hour to perform our art and perfect our lives The moths & atheists are doubly divine and dying We live, we die and death not ends it Journey we more into the Nightmare Cling to life our passion'd flower Cling to cunts and cocks of despair We got our final vision by clap Columbus' groin got filled with green death (I touched her thigh & death smiled) We have assembled inside this ancient and insane theatre To propagate our lust for life and flee the swarming wisdom of the streets The barns are stormed The windows kept and only one of all the rest To dance & save us With the divine mockery of words Music inflames temperament (When the true King's murderers are allowed to roam free a 1000 Magicians arise in the land) Where are the feasts we were promised Where is the wine The New Wine (dying on the vine) resident mockery give us an hour for magic We of the purple glove We of the starling flight and velvet hour We of arabic pleasure's breed We of sundome and the night Give us a creed To believe A night of Lust Give us trust in The Night Give of color hundred hues a rich Mandala for me and you and for your silky pillowed house a head, wisdom and a bed Troubled decree Resident mockery has claimed thee We used to believe in the good old days We still receive In little ways The Things of Kindness and unsporting brow Forget and allow Did you know freedom exists in a school book Did you know madmen are running our prison within a jail, within a goal within a white free protestant Maelstrom We're perched headlong on the edge of boredom We're reaching for death on the end of a candle We're trying for something That's already found us We can invent Kingdoms of our own grand purple thrones, those chairs of lust & love we must, in beds of rust Steel doors lock in prisoner's screams and muzak, AM, rocks their dreams No black men's pride to hoist the beams while mocking angels sift what seems To be a collage of magazine dust Scratched on foreheads of walls of trust This is just jail for those who must get up in the morning and fight for such unusable standards while weeping maidens show off penury and pout ravings for a mad staff Wow, I'm sick of doubt Live in the light of certain South Cruel bindings The servants have the power dog-men & their mean women pulling poor blankets over our sailors (and where were you in our lean hour) Milking your moustache? or grinding a flower? I'm sick of dour faces Staring at me from the T.V. Tower. I want roses in my garden bower; dig? Royal babies, rubies must now replace aborted Strangers in the mud These mutants, blood-meal for the plant that's plowed They are waiting to take us into the severed garden Do you know how pale & wanton thrillful comes death on a strange hour unannounced, unplanned for like a scaring over friendly guest you've brought to bed Death makes angels of us all and gives us wings where we had shoulders smooth as raven's claws No more money, no more fancy dress This other Kingdom seems by far the best until its other jaw reveals incest and loose obedience to a vegetable law I will not go Prefer a feast of Friends To the Giant family (II) Great screaming Christ Upsy-daisy Lazy Mary will you get up upon a Sunday morning "The movie will begin in 5 moments" The mindless Voice announced "All those unseated, will await the next show" We filed slowly, languidly into the hall. The auditorium was vast, and silent. As we seated & were darkened The Voice continued: "The program for this evening is not new. You have seen This entertainment thru & thru. You've seen your birth, your life & death; you might recall all of the rest-(did you have a good world when you died?)-enough to base a movie on? An iron chuckle rapped our minds like a fist. I'm getting out of here Where're you going? To the other side of morning Please don't chase the clouds pagodas, temples Her cunt gripped him like a warm friendly hand. "It's all right. All your friends are here." When can I meet them? "After you've eaten" I'm not hungry "O, we meant beaten" Silver stream, silvery scream, impossible concentration Here come the comedians look at them smile Watch them dance an indian mile Look at them gesture How aplomb So to gesture everyone Words dissemble Words be quick Words resemble walking sticks Plant them They will grow Watch them waver so I'll always be a word-man Better thn a birdman But I'll charge Won't get away without lodging a dollar Shall I say it again aloud, you get the point No food w/out fuel's gain I'll be, the irish loud unleashed my beak at peak of powers O girl, unleash your worried comb O worried mind Sin in the fallen Backwoods by the blind She smells debt on my new collar Arrogant prose Tied in a network of fast quest Hence the obsession Its quick to admit Fast borrowed rhythm Woman came between them Women of the world unite Make the world safe For a scandalous life Hee Heee Cut your throat Life is a joke Your wife's in a moat The same boat Here comes the goat Blood Blood Blood Blood They're making a joke of our universe (III) Matchbox Are you more real than me I'll burn you, & set you free Wept bitter tears Excessive courtesy I won't forget (IV) A hot sick lava flowed up, Rustling & bubbling. The paper face. Mirror mask, I love you mirror. He had been brainwashed for 4 hrs. The LT. puzzled in again "ready to talk" "No sir"- was all he'd say. Go back to the gym. Very peaceful Meditation Air base in the desert looking out venetian blinds a plane a desert flower cool cartoon The rest of the world is reckless and dangerous Look at the brothels Stag films Exploration (V) A ship leaves port mean horse of another thicket wishbone of desire decry the metal fox Copyright © 1990 by Wilderness Publications
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The Celebration of the Lizard
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The Paris Journal So much forgotten already So much forgotten So much to forget Once the idea of purity born, all was lost irrevocably The Black Musician in a house up the hill Nigger in the woodpile Skeleton in the closet Sorry, Didn't mean you. An old man, someone's daughter Arises & sees us still in the room of off-key piano & bad paintings him off to work & new wife arriving (The candle-forests of Notre-Dame) beggar nuns w/moving smiles, small velvet sacks & cataleptic eyes straying to the gaudy Mosaic calendar Windows I write like this to seize you give me your love, your tired eyes, sad for delivery A small & undiscover'd park-we ramble And the posters scream safe revolt & the tired walls barely fall, graffiti into dry cement sand an overfed vacuum dust-clock I remember freeways Summer, beside you Ocean-brother Storms passing electric fires in the night "rain, night, misery- the back-ends of wagons" Shake it! Wanda, fat stranded swamp Woman We still need you Shake your roly-poly Thighs inside that Southern tent So what. It was really wild She started nude & put on her clothes An old & cheap hotel w/bums in the lobby genteel bums of satisfied poverty Across the street, a famous pool-hall where the actors meet former ace-home of beat musicians beat poets & beat wanderers in the Zen tradition from China to the Subway in 4 easy lifetimes Weeping, he left his pad on orders from police & furnishings hauled away, all records & momentos, & reporters calculating tears & curses for the press: "I hope the Chinese junkies get you" & they will for the poppy rules the world That handsome gentle flower Sweet Billy! Do you remember the snake your lover tender in the tumbled brush-weed sand & cactus I do. And I remember Stars in the shotgun night eating pussy til the mind runs clean Is it rolling, God in the Persian Night? "There's a palace in the canyon where you & I were born Now I'm a lonely Man Let me back into the Garden Blue Shadows of the Canyon I met you & now you're gone & now my dream is gone Let me back into your Garden A man searching for lost Paradise Can seem a fool to those who never sought the other world Where friends do lie & drift Insanely in Their own private gardens" The cunt bloomed & the paper walls Trembled A monster arrived in the mirror To mock the room & its fool alone Give me songs to sing & emerald dreams to dream & I'll give you love unfolding Sun underwater, it was immediately strange & familiar the black boy's from the boat, fins & mask, Nostrils bled liquid crystal blood as they rose to surface Rose & moved strong in their wet world Below was a Kingdom Empire of still sand & yes, party-colored fishes -they are the last to leave The gay sea I eat you avoiding your wordy bones & spit out pearls The little girl gave little cries of surprise as the club struck her sides I was there By the fire in the Phonebooth I saw them charge & heard the indian war-scream felt the adrenalin of flight-fear the exhilaration of terror sloshed drunk in the flashy battle blood Naked we come & bruised we go nude pastry for the slow soft worms below This is my poem for you Great flowing funky flower'd beast Great perfumed wreck of hell Great good disease & summer plague Great god-damned shit-ass Mother-fucking freak You lie, you cheat, you steal, you kill you drink the Southern Madness swill of greed you die utterly & alone Mud up to your braces Someone new in your knickers & who would that be? You know You know more than you let on Much more than you betray Great slimy angel-whore you've been good to me You really have been swell to me Tell them you came & saw & look'd into my eyes & saw the shadow of the guard receding Thoughts in time & out of season The Hitchiker stood by the side of the road & levelled his thumb in the calm calculus of reason. Copyright 1990 Wilderness Publications
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