This is the world! Greetings! It is the same place seeing child- ren do "cute,, things like pissing on a car in the Goldblattst park- ing lot trying to catch robins after they've just learned to walk, they fail on their nose & bounce back up like a weighted punching bag--it is the same place the same children all martyrs at the H-Bomb stake, their innocent brains turning into bar-b-que, their screams splitting our skulls like hatchets. Yes, I'm writing this in a puddle of sun out in the land of crew- cut lawns where tv antennas grow taller than trees & the people landscape their minds with recipes for potato salad & tips on how to golf. I'm right in the cyclops eye of the Enemy Camp. That's why I know what d.a. levy is talking about in CLEVELAND : THE RECTAL EYE VISIONS- if you live in the city you know, but if you live in the suburbs you get the full treatment, the residu the re- fined, distilled quintessence of Rectalplasm, of Shitomania, of Devoidarama, Here I get a perfect view of the sun, the children, the Bomb & the people who have cultivated the Bomb. Now I just want you to know my qualifications- to let you know that I have gagged on the diet of fear-ridden Headlines; lethargic T.V. Guides & Reader's Digests (yes, seems like a decent diatribe can't be written without mentioning oll R.D.); hate-filled VFW & American Legion meetings; petite de-balled showboxes with carports; & psychotic conversations Igossip, mostly -- designed to fill the void -- with giggles & jokes) that descends far below the term drivel. I have lived & worked with the men who know they are dead, who have given up trying to feel any emotion except fear, hate & triumph over fucking someone, whose only ambition is to buy a dead car, raise a dead family & mortgage a dead houses Sure, you know all that. You probably live out here in Cyclopoville too. But You know something else, something the Headlines & Readerts Disgust (oops!) don't tell us? It's these same moronic shits, these apathet ic sows that run our government, that make our laws, our foreign pol icy & rape our ravaged earnings of more taxes: to keep their game goinG! These are the harbingers of war, the angels of destruction! They are the same as the hermetically sealed minds in Bensenville, in Cleveland, in NYC-- the very same personalities, the same petty goals & myopic ideas only that these boys specialize in deceit, in mass destruction of human tissue & conditioning of human minds to see things in accordance to their narrow views. They are little People. Louisa May had them pegged: Little Men & Little Women. They have Egyptian mummy wrapped our minds, they have imprisoned us altho we are still allowed to travel to & from work. They have conditioned us to finding happiness solely in $$. In finding bea- uty solely in manufactured dept. store vomit, Our entire lived are legislated every second by these people. I don't have to go, into detail, to draw on Huxley or Orwell-- Limbo or Walden II, etc. I Don't have to say any more about where these "buddies" of ours are leading us. Use your common sense. They are taking us to a state where we won't have to do anything -- a Perfect Hell, We wont have to move or work-- cars, buttons, etc. will do that for us. -2- We won't have to think-- machines will do that for us. We won't ha ve to feel -- tv, movies, radio will do that for use There won't be anything for us to do but take our LSD (sorry hippies) twice a week like religion, our schooling for 12 years, see our marriage council er shrink once a week, tattoo our eyeballs naked with laws until the blood crusts & forms an invisible protective shield that keeps us knowing that we are the "right ones", the one's in God's favor" & that everyone else who faild to confom is undesirable. Security becomes measured by the amount of "connections" we have & by the "in-groups" we belong to. Yes, a Perfect Hell, with nothing to do but wonder why we're not happy. Levy, goddamn it, it's about time you got your ass here. It's about time you have engineered a savior path back to sanity, back to being a Human Being. We need you & this book of poems desperately. Intro ductions by guys like me dnn't do much-- it takes somebody who can really workout, who can really maul "the scene", who can take every gory detail & smack it on paper, who can invent words that forcep our eyes open, scalpels that scrape the crust off! Here is a book that will turn the cranberry sauce in our veins back to blood! Before you tum on the ballgame please read it. -- Douglas Blazek 5.29.66 Bensenville
1.WARMING UP THE BOX delivered on time to persons with city & state line bearing only the words DEATH CITY - I suppose there is present in the city a speed carrying living cartoons toward death & an anxiety that pushed one over the edge of the ocean sooner than necessary - i have seen people falling, under New Yorks strange wheels of time, but there are worse places there is AMERICA THE HOME OF THE VOID - 2500 miles of apathy & lack of communication...cities like Cleveland & it leaves an uneasy feeling to think of justice peace & love and then find oneself lost in a city of war monuments; in the morning the sun rises in the east & the trumpets blare as wheelbarrows of $ $ are rolled down EUCLID AVE & the children dressed in rage bow down in reverence & the children dressed in the bright-light of dreams shout hossanas to the golden images the sun rises in the east RA is a rain of dry tears over the dust of allah JAHVEH has tossed the karmic dice JESUS & MILAREPA & BUDDHA playing cards in a lost room on the SOLAR BARQUE the rainbowed children are ONE BODY in their church of open sky hemmed with banks and dimestores and the new image of god is hailed OH - children of DEATH SIEG HEIL SIEG HEIL DER PFENIG UBER ALLES the wind in the trees of the forest city. the coins freshly minted in solemn temple & the resurrection is eternal OH god is gold & green like the leaves in the trees & the silver stare twinkle on the domes of 8AM time vaults (i am looking for a comet on a shelf of quarters) you infinitely portable god - a quiet god heard deep inside the pocket - a soft mantra of money that has taken ovez- the mass mind YOU - lost in dreams of stallions & television violence YOIJ ARE DYING in yr suburban homes YOU ARE DYING - the 11:20 NEWS is a lie the 7:30 news is a lie hutley & brinkley are lies the weather report is a cartoon YOU ARE THE LATE MIOVIE BLOOD GUTS DEATH MURDER LAW CRASH WAR the angel of death is not news you failed in yr toilet training you dreamers without identities YOU ARE NOT JEAN HARLOW JAMES DEANS DEATH IS NOT YRS GARY COOPERS COOL IS NOT YRS LIZ TAYLORS DREAM TWOT IS NOT YRS BRIGIT BARDOT IS NOT RIMBAUD you are sitting there sucking it up the friday night horror movie is really a HAPPENING in viet nam the prisons of Spain are packed like a tin of sardines you are paying for them you are paying for the death of others you are paying wth yr hemmorhoids & wet dreams ... shooting up with channel 3/5/8 & it is killing you faster than shooting methedrine crystals on the beaches of lake erie ... in between the stench of fish young trains of skinnylegs are coupling maggot infested fish...soft breast...a rat carries a piece of puke home ... hand under skirt-thunderbird cockman (& theytre blowing Lady Jane on the western front)... driftwood - the lightening in the void ... OM MANI PAD ME HUM ... broken glass ... beer courage ... fires & fires & shouts from Sandusky to ERIE ... this fast dry "rocks off" lay is not TANTRA (FUCK is not the ultimate expression of love)...the sunrises in the east & the weekends are not washed away - no one wears a white shirt if they understand the tragedy of LOCKWIERD * smells like rotting abortions on bayonets would you beleive it BULLETIN: the white virgin is dead - electric chair on television...there's a lot of chicks balling with sand in the cracks of their asses .. dry dock...i burn incense we share pieces of light & i remember the skelton of a ship half buried in the sand & a photograph of a nude model 1920 carefully placed under an empty gallo wine bottle & Dr. Wagner "the dreams here are getting to be too much HEADLINE: NIAGARA FALLS BEATNIK POETS TRY TO BRING LOST LOVE TO HONEYMOONERS - POLICE ARE ROUNDING THEM UP & X-RAYING TMEM TO DEATH HEAD-LINE . . . . . BOO CULTURAL EVENTS : HEADLINE : --- the ring of heavenly blue Morning glorys circling the feet of ST, EMERIC has been condemned by the popoff as a communist plot to advertise L.S.D. & degrade the church - the popoff wore a lace peek-a-boo nighty an american flag & sed Bless everyone Xcept the Peace Creeps & P.S, George Lincoln Ratwell is a reincarnation of Sait Paul & he is not excommunicated from the church... my second abortion this week - i sed was like eating a bottle of ground glass - the shadows under this jung chicks eyes...in the Suburbs BATMAN & FLASH GORDON & L.B.J. SUPERHEROS - the superheros taperecordings of BLACK BARTLETS FAMOUS QUOTATIONS FOR EVERY OCCASSION * "what are you asking me a chicken shit question like that for" the president still puzzled over the pyramid on his dollar bills - ACTION LIE - does NASSER really own 1/3 of America reply - a lot of ARAB BEATNIK PEACE FREAKS ARE TRYING TO SUBVERT THE AMERICAN PUBLIC WITH MARIJUANAKILLERDRUGS & love - the group is small but DANGEROUS - NARCOTICS & commy propaganda - behind the scenes & under the desk with a mona lisa smile HEADLINE: SEX AS A MEANS OF EXPRESSION!! oh god, what are these people trying to say ? YOU ARE WATCHING TELEVISION & DYING YOUR CHILDREN ARE BEING FUCKED in the mouth with the poisons you feed them in the ear with the tripe you tell them in the mind with unusuable knowledge & lies in the spirt with illusions in the ass by the neighborhood 14 yr old queer who learned to love with his mouth before he could get an erection... in dreams with compromise * yr daughters hymen is a myth to the high school dyke on the tennis court - Mayor Locher is a whore ... the police dept is a dream house - the syphilus of ignorance & the brutality are heredit ary you are fucking your sons and daughters with apthy & lack of vision HEADLINE: I AM NOT TRYING TO SCREW YOU I AM TRYING TO COMMUNICATE (this will be taken out of context) or as the latest 18 yr old abortion on the scene sucking up beers faster than Zorro could circumcise a bad ass or whip a masochist in a gay bar CRACK - she sed it wasnt the "dusting & cleaning; it was the furniture polish they used that brought her down & WHAT THEY FORGOT TO TELL HER CUNT was another hour & then under the table & then HANNA PAVILION & then she sed "it was when i was 16 & dreams - mist-electric love for a fatherless fathers eye - no one swemed to understand - i didnt want an icebox in my bedroom - i wanted Someone to Say HEY YOU oh you know they have a T.V. here too ? (4) sometimes we walk around east Cleveland the lady is 18 - a bucks cou:nty hindu she smiles & laughs she is collecting the years like dust (it is difficult to remember - the bombs have dropped) today she saw a piece of my mirror & the sunlight of Amen Ra ... later she broke out in hives - it was a sweaty afternoon - her sculptured being unbeleivably hindu - we read the KAMA SUTRA lying in bed together - she wore a small red bow and her kiss did not have sand in it i burned a candle the green coyote in the wastebasket wept as i uncovered a white sun everyone tells me its not the same as the one the people of cleveland put in the sky - the stn rises in the EAST my white sun, white star her green eyes like an egyptian cat we are both dying TRINITY HEADLINE: the green gold father - the finance company & the holy ghost of television have santified T.V. DINNERS as a reigious sacrament..."of course i fall right inyo a trance after a quick frozan dinner - who needs zen" her face is always flushed with sum inner excitment we get on the rapid at Cedar & thg trip doesnt end "the dreams here are getting to bt too much" Dr. Wagner i hope winter arrives ... we are moving the sun out of the suburbs - LATE EDITION HEADLINE PEACE CREEPS STAND IN RAIN & SNOW (5) sumthin else...U Ching (The Hebrew Book of Changes) begins a new cycle at the end of the fifth section - or THE SYNTHETIC ILLUMINATION a new psychedelic Rug scene..tibetan gothic patterns COKE - kill for Coca Cola ***** the 4th peace Reich ; sing 'mother, i dont know who put the cocaine in the excedrine bottle" (SCREAM) change tune if line #3 is looose in yr mind in my mind its like st pauls cathedral "& no one told me what to do / with all this SPACE in my mind a mirror refleckted in & the moon SHOOTING RAYS breaking from transparent flickering on the walls PLASTIC FORM MMMmmmmm new colors? Baby Ruths Blues - blue flowers jump off her dress & before my eyes SPRONGGGGGG Am Bars, white powder & wine - i get my head so tired its full of flames ... i want to become a human lamp/ Xcept i turn in to a player piano THIS IS DIFFERENT --- lady jane prayerwheels dont work - i start & finish talking simultaneously in 24 hours - the beer can jumps at me - i cant get it Up like Osiris(his balls in a pawn shop. . . . .(Who I GOING) everyones saying planetrainbuscartime in the morning my grey face still talking to the fireplace the real candles burn out-in the background "You cant outtalk the Angel of Death" over over over overover over & the record is off but ' i been wading thru the shit in Cleveland, mother & nobodies got the time,, trees whisper novenas for the lady with black nostrals "someday sum angel gona try to break in my brain hes gona be suprized i got a bomb & no pain i go to sleep in the morning wake up at four 8000 nobodies waiting at the door Screaming WHO AM I WHO AM I" WHERES THE NIGHTMARE? angel the viet cong under my bed & god is dead How come We're Still Riding Next Week the BIG THEY rounds up all the leaders HA HA 'you aint got ennuf jails" YOU SAY HAHA 'rou "got the bullets" & "sumbody'll give you the ground & "imported Assyrian Bulls to cover the crematorium ______ 'i smell love burning, & everyone sez "You got to compromise & the smell is from the lake", & "i smell souls dying" LAST HEADLINE: & STARS # 51 to 64 will contain small swastikas commemorating a -srmilar unifying investment of the past..... " (6) -for Phil Oochs- QDE TO MAYOR LOCHER - Rome is the Hunky the dogs are in uniform at the Hough Ave Airport waiting to greet you & the people with dog minds the people in dog suits - the dog mind a HA HA you old rascal you're not a police dog - you're in drag i see yr zipper ole mayor locher/ unzip ole ralphy & we got "GOTT IN HIMMEL" its SUPER SERVICE the gas station mechanic - the pharoah of Fairview park the maniac Buddha mindof Brookpark Village its an ibis/ a swallow/ a phoonix/ its SUPER funk..... Ole Magyar Locher you ain't even a bad guy you're like prez Johnson who plays strange now forms of music "Jazz Politics" "Fug the people" (it seems ive heard that riff before) Ole Magyar of Swamp Erie - your empty face you aint even a bad guy you are just one of the replacable 3 stooges Ralph/Larry & Moe Ole wise man of Cleveland you're just like prez Johnson who plays musical electric shairs With The People & the parades of parades & the uniforms of death all look the same to me, Ole Magyar/ the hungarians died for freedom in 1956 & you are selling ours with your blank face in 1966 Ole Mayor Locher you aint even smart enough to be a bad guy & the parades of parades of death whisper in the marching marching of the 4th Reich America UBER ALLES for allen ginsberg manifesto fragment & Roem for-the one-eyed children I DONT KNOW WHERE THESE WORDS COME FROM ANYMORE dreams of non-paranoid paranoia it will all work out in the end but i keep thinking ill be one of the dead/ did i put that into my head? my conclusions are never related to the information devoured/or i eat WORDS IDEAS VISIONS in an attempt to grasp sumthing CONCRETE to communicate (there is no music in this country all my thoughts turn into myths MY REALITY DOESNT HAVE A FUCKING THING TO DO WITH YR REALITY for instance, a chinese holy man just appeared on the curtains & what Antonin Artaud proved waag "If you're really where its at" you can turn shock therapy into a psychedelic experience/ & if you overindulge you get friedbrains & that freaks up yr brain wave f'or a while. if you're ultra-cool you can control yr psychiatrist & he'll turn you on at regular intervals, on the other hand ONE mistaken ride on his brain waves & you may end up like him/ exce pt he has the money & you don't. he can afford to let you pay him to maintain his myth & that is the real basis of your unreality, all you get is the pussy which you cant accept becuz you havent paid for it / the thang becomes unreal until you can buy yr way out of the mass myth FOR THE POET words ARE THE FASTEST CURRENCY out of the State illusion... But it is still money that keeps him out of the State Institutions / Physically that is...THE POETS MYTH IS PORTABLE The Myth of Freedom is portable...Pocket Ra is Portable BEING TOLD YOU ARE LOCKED UP IS WORSE THAN BEING LOCKED UP WE ARE ALL LOCKED UP/ in credit cunt, behind the bars of the conservative alcoholic bank book, in advertising supermarket food prisons/ Our Bodies are Spirt Vaults..BREAK THE SEAL by osmosis along the dotted lines on the top of yr head FREEDOM FOR THE SPIRT the bodies tomb doors are locked from the outside This is called Living In A World Of Ignorance THE BEGINNING is learning to move about freely within yr own tomb dont look outsider there is nothing but the wrathful cardboard deities of the T.V.Myth, WHAT IS FREEDOM FOR THE SPIRT? its like driving a go cart in a parma supermarket & HELL/YAMA is being pursued by a Lawrence Welk smile at GREAT NORTHERN SHRIEK...THE SUPERMARKET SUTRA ... & the small tantric sermons of the drive-in auto-mobile ashram-strobescopic flickerings of limp-sex films...a teeny bopper who is dry thinks she is a tantric Kwan-Yin trying to mother love & worshiping the motorcycle OSIRIS his phallus lost in the dawn - drive-in sex at the gas station GAS? OIL? GROPE? mechanical hands grope you in your auto as you are gassed & oiled & later anointed at the drive-in reading The Perfumed Garden by the light of the glove compartment I KEEP TELLING MYSELF, to take more drugs so i will be more coherent/ i keep telling Myself to leap like a flame from my window//i am afraid to be the first assassination in Cleveland, everyone will think Allen/ the bell me&the dragon lady bought in detroit or the toledo art museum hidden in the turquiose scarabs/ i gave it to you after you read at the AMASA STONE CHAPEL - chanted mantras- shot us full of light & the bell rings saying THUS i dont want to be paranoid but other than you, no one ever told me how to LOVE a Vacuum, Allen you may not be as holy as Jesus & the fat funk brahmans of India, but you are certainly among the most holy & sacred men in this desert..allen..i dont want to start a cult they do not sell meat tenderizer for the dawn cock & last night i skoffed several lifetimes of snatch as a yoga practice - turned on people just telling then how to function in the Love Underground - the catacombs of america are full of the songs of the skull sung in gothic bathrooms - i beleive there is merit in taking a good shit - THIS a first creative act is the first step to being reborn -- An act of love (it came & swallowed all my words) How did we fall for the myth of Ulysses murdering the ONE-EYED child when he sez he is NO MAN he wasnt kidding Ulysses is an animal a george orwell cartoon movie of the bullshit pig & the Babylonians & the Assyrians & our whole disease culture is based on these SWINE proud to murder those giants with One EYE/ THOSE ANGELS WITH THE EYE THAT FEELS Where they the original gods if i open the window in my head will they kill me? how many survived waiting hiding centuries piled on centuries waiting for the Day of Love to arrive & instead they are greeted by the facist princes & the war lords Ulysses,hitler,mussolini,franco,stalin,johnson eisenhower, trujillo, batista etc etc etc the names always spell / IMPOTENT BRAIN WAVES & UNCONTROLLED DEATH (8) part I for w.e. wyatt Acapolco lips the dragon of winged lions & the ch'i-lin racing in sum sort of mind game - i cant see this the words are just falling out of the pen the ch'i-lin has the body of a deer on my homemade postcard he carries a holy man the chli-lin has the feet of a horse on my homemade postcard the words say CHINESE BRONZE MING DYNASTY (1368-1644) the ch'i-lin has the tail of an ox & walks off the card into the living room carrying a holy man it is 10 ears since the silence was broken like a bird that appears only in times of PEACE & HAPPINESS We made our plans carefully/first in the 5th century B.C. and worked - making revisions in the text as time pretended to move around us/ in ceylon - the gth century - we painted our dreams drank tea & watched the oceans lap our shores no one knew or knows our number when we moved it was as a mountian mist & there were rumors that we hid in the valleys & wore animal masks in death dances & meanwhile we planned the motion of fire in water our motions in silence a gesture at the sky to keep track of our years we didnt bother when they preferred to run from their shadows i think it was the 11th century someone noticed 100,000 dead in a dream & we knew that in their fear they would attempt to end all shadows & we made our plans when they invented the radio we laughed at how slow it was & raced the waves as the ocean pressing our shores the last i remember is 1890 we kissed the books and smiled at the mountians moving away - not knowing what to say i was to be reborn here & you were to be reborn there & that was that Now in the 20th century there are many small fires burning what do you think they will do when they discover they cannot destroy our light and when we meet them at the gates laughing/as the mountians move away.
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