by d.a.levy
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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This is a cooperative presentation of
Ghost Pony, Kaldron On-Line, and
Light and Dust Anthology of Poetry.