a small handful of thunder/ that was him/ taking the middle out/ holding it in his hands/ living in Hollywood/ being a prostitute for the man/ the industry of deception/ cellophane, plywood, and glue/ he makes himself bigger/ checks on his progress every day/ the bird in the mirror/ pecking at his reflection/ before he became a madman/ before becoming a very big deal/ all battened down and bloody/ and the feeling of disappearing coming over him/ this was way before he learned how to open doors/ once you learn such a thing, you never forget/ at least I never forget/ maybe some people do/ before all that/ there was a time when he was a decent fellow/ when making money and telling lies were just for fun and not a business/ not his business/ but, that is all dead now/ things have changed/
you think it is important to attach yourself to a movement/ to a historical point of time/ you want a paradigm to hold onto/ something to give you assurance against the coming storm/ you are a whale of oblivion/ you hide the significant details in your belly/ they are all creatures for you to devour/ you consider them all to be plankton/
a strange little man jumps out of a hole in the ground/ he looks like a leprechaun/ except he’s all dressed in red/ I examine his head for horns, but there is none/ he asks you to bend over and he ever so gently blows smoke up your ass/ you giggle as the smoke forces its way into your rectum/ he’s holding a bong shaped like a penis/ my head swims from the symbolism/ and then he swallowed you/ boots and all/ he had this stupid laugh that sounded like water gurgling/ I asked him if he was full and he just laughed/ that stupid gurgling laugh/
we were not sure of the dimensions/ to turn around and be unconscious/ riding the wave/ living in the moment/ there is something in the feeling/ the way the groove unfolds/ close to the breast/ it comes to the surface/ bubbling up like a cloud in heaven/ bending the mind/ waking up the thrill/ sprayed against the corners/ a nation of filthy rats elect their king/
there is a big hole/ where they bury the souls/ old souls of the forest/ reveals itself in little packets/ four corners square/ the sweet taste and the bitter stems/ it seeps on down/ rushing over as in a hurry/ a race to the finish/ the gates of Hell/ 10 months in prison/ to never hear from love/ love out in the open/ a dream sequence day by day/ passing on the highway with beads around the necks/ song birds sing in the end/ coming after with a red eye itch/ upside down turns the world/ straight into the struggle/ dragged across the floor/ we go no more/
through the thin blue puffs/ the fatal distinction/ surrendering a part of us/ in the telling/ in the names/ the necessary life of deception/ expanding our corruption/ our virtues are ashamed/ a swirling vortex/ a long history/ the strangulation of the tubes/ pissing on your divine gift/ first you must have a sense of moral outrage/ to be bothered by the death and dying in the streets/ and then you have to have balls/ balls enough to say fuck that/ that shit don’t cut it anymore/ you motherfuckers are through/ no more lying to us about our lack of safety/ so you can sell more bombs/ it’s time to make the lion lay down with the land/ it doesn’t take divine intervention/ it takes each and every one of us say “No More War”/ I won’t pick up my gun and kill my brother no more/ that guy in Iraq, he’s my brother/ that guy in Iran, he’s my brother/ that guy in Africa, he’s my brother / that guy in North Korea, he’s my brother / that guy in South America, he’s my brother/ I’m not killing people so you can get rich anymore/
© Deep Piercing Cut 2009
Allen Ginsburg is nodding in approval… keep on writing Glen..
This was definitely your ‘Howl’. I agree. I was riveted and felt drawn in to a demise of a human. The pace and the style was original.
thank you both for the wonderful words of praise – this ghost has more companions that might make it here in the future.
Glen