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Time cannot forgive you,
forget or forsake you
We were vast assembled
inside the ancient labyrinth
insane
and lost
senselessly
entertaining idyllacy
1st, someone stopped
and looked around
and spoke darkly
the cool words
and we soon noticed
the limitlessness
& array
The sun was bright
and warm
The air was swirling
A beast or demon
moved silently, leeringly
at the forest edge,
inviting us to taste
and glutton, enamor
bereft witless
of its temtations,
addictions
No fat man's pride.
Can we, now, come
again in the Mind
alive
like a rampant friend?
We recognize that
wretched other
& are repulsed,
lividly
like a serpent or Vampire
[deathly: a female scream]
Awakening
ruthless to rumors of
recourse; a cerebral tumult
of vertigoes, of horrors
& madnesses, of storms of
blood
Plunders are a morality
Wars Murders Rape
Ah, sweet sister Ethra,
we love you even while
we impale & wreck you
we strike your skies
and bite your sides
maladorous cries
are your blackened tides
Yeah, good mother,
we love you as you die
sufferingly
miserably
inevitably
Wanton & warring
and willful & wicked
Of course, there needs be
contortions & writhing
& perversions and lust,
rapacious & wrought
There needs be revulsion
and violence in monstrous
mass against cold apathy
(-Yeah, the actions must be
sharp and cruel
to give purportment to being,
to create, to love and ride,
corporeal and strong)
Make works
Find voice
Tame Lethe
Live
Crazed ace lays waste
to vile lethargy
and sensual atrophy
Liquid fuckery!
-Sleep On, Blues-
Sleep on, blues
Sleep on
Visit the banyon
Go to the memnon
There's a canyon there
where dreams are made
& prophecies
right before your eyes
Caress the mother, blues
Sleep on
I won't disturb you
No, I shall not awake
Alone is an angel
whose heaven is exile
& whose sword is mirth,
stained dark w/blood
Its wings are black silence
of the night
Sleep on, old blues
O old blues, sleep on
I am wanton
& rapt, mad engorged
in your scarring mire,
w/out mercy, w/out peace
You are sorrow and
ceaseless, stark entrenched
A gentle moment would
be murderous azure
to a screaming event
Rest on, bastard blues
Rest on
This is my gaggle
This horror is my flame
Ah, great cruel dancing
awry, rend me hollow
and stolen & cold
& reckless and spent,
piteous as a ghost
Let the dawn,
woman blues
and let the wind
Let the warm strokes of
sun & the embracing sky
Let the passion of lovers
& children
& friends
I.
Sometimes, I am Bottom, profusely & I can be invisible
or spectral like a rumor or fucking chameleon. I am there
and not there and I see you; into you. I am omniscent of
& read you. Devastations. Depravities. Wraths & passions,
sentiently (like cigarette smoke). Memory is a deeper facade
and more profound labyrinth asylum garden; scarringly and bright lore and her warm Whiskey Kiss, soft in the dead
city-night, w/all Hell: its torments, torrential and Stygian
around and among us (jackyls bandits lovers all). Splinter
that violin, that weeping! Werewolves were our friends
(in days now gone). Tandems are easy when you think in
shadows, despairs and only legacies and empires of solitude,
sorrow are your enterprise. O hapless Fate!
II.
Sometimes, man, I am motherfucking deranged crazy
lunacy and vampire of tastes, caresses. Sometimes, only
absolute vertigo and dementia of mindplay can be my
sanctum (my only hope)like forest rain. Black out!: Shit
happens (when you're all fucked up & wild sands have stolen
to your senses). The whole world's corrupt and blind and
drunk and wretched. The skies are burning down, godlessly,
like insane suns or stars or desire, dreams. The oceans are
menstruating a sick green bile and venom of putrefaction,
disease. "These hills crying pain", while winds creep through,
mournfully, hideously. I've lost girlfriends, friends, spirit-
soul, prowess and mien. Myself (in serated shards). Women are
waters and vast placentas of Mystery, Discovery, like 1st sin:
larceny, heresy, atrophy (apathy).
III.
I got this way from back over there to experience essences,
to tongue Form, to fuck and glutton. Yeah, I got wasted and
wrecked and dark and sought death in all its horrors.
Now, I'm a broken man. Piteously broke & wiser motherfucker,
madly estranged and can't get back. I'll never get back or
want to. The other side of Ennui: O miserable reckless
westward wandering. Weary. Wounded. Always leery.
And shining. I rememer, once (long ago), I was
lecherous trippin' balls to walls, high libation long drawn
out silken smooth and sexful. That's the price of survival,
like a damnable fiend. A death rat or gutter urchin,
vigilantly. The streets are ancient plantations & squalid
bloodgrounds of imbued squalor and infested ordure,
meanderingly, we lords.
IV.
Yeah, sometimes, man, I am an asshole. Hardcore.
Sometimes, I'm all right. Sometimes, I can't get my shit
together and all my life's a kite. A blown leaf. A stone or
pebble, cast and tumbling, careening. Plummeting. Most
times, though, I am a child, satyr-like and prancing.
Swooning. Drooling. Yeah, I'm doing fine. When plurality
of selves, at last, divines and One must leave, it will be
all that matters that becomes of us. Lethe hath no refuse
(in the end). Ah, and yeah, I am tired forlorn of debauch,
decay. I shall always be alone. I'll never know love. I'll
never trust. I'm dead as dust. Know what I mean? -I want to
be clean. It all started w/Birth's cruel thrust into that
fucking shit which you are made up.
Yeah, I picked up the pen
a life ago
Now, it's a part of me
Now, it's the heart in me
Now, it's my Art,
my passion and soul
(Put tobacco on my grave
that I may meet my Maker
w/honor, w/out Excuse)
Cool Night Time...
cool night time
in the abyss
wind in the bowels
and mind
valley forge to ruin
and desolation of
the soul-
the walls in deep
liquid alchemical fire
melting steel and stone,
menstrual sperm and blood
and disease and venom
call to mystery
the bleeding triumph
death in the senses
like a cancer
the sky becomes a sea
of dreams that guides the
old wanderer alone
on highways, through
wilderness and pain
scarred perceptions of Trust
-The Contrivance-
And Beauty,
that insane whore,
wrapped her dark lythe supple
legs lasciviously around the
demon and maniac,
Modernity.
Her cunt swallowed him
like a beast
and they gyrated
& throbbed
& pulsed and writhed,
slipperingly,
barbarously
And all around
in the hideous garden
of animal night,
there were other demons
and damned ones and
jackyls & fiends, all leering
and seething and hissing
and diseased
-saliva oozed from the
corners of their mouths
their eyes glaring,
eagerly, wretchedly
Her orgasm is apathy
of the senses
& she delights in your dying
Yeah, she loves you
w/the screaming savagery
of warm female wickedness
Thrusting Into Hot...
Thrusting into hot
dripping throbbing oozing
slippering wet
pussy
w/absolute conviction
& primeval ecstacy
in the senses-
(at a furious pace
& in wanton manner,
w/much groping
and fondling
and tonguing
and caressing
and writhing)
is soulful expulsion
and divines us,
savagely
Sex & death are the world
Sex and death
are prowess
I met this chick
downtown there,
so I brought her home
& we got drunk
& we spoke
& we laughed
& we fucked
O gawd, how we fucked...
I Looked Into Possession...
I looked into possession
and saw my
Birth
Naked as anarchy
Wild as power
A profession of hysterics
(-a bizarre w/dark dynamics)
Yeah, I'm a strange
old dog
made up of networks
& plains,
grafted in blood
Only fragments,
great shards
could hope to define
in the lines
& lizards of sand
Hold my hand.
I'll be yours.
(Get me high.
Stroke my sides.)
You're so fine.
Be mine.
And light another cigarette.
I'm still smokin',
cool and sullen
while phases of pain
that stain my brain
I fucked her on Main
It was fucking insane!
Out there
is where I'll find you
I seek to torture,
corrupt, ruin, absorb
(w/tongues, caresses, screams)
-I am anishnaabe of esprit.
I took my stage
and song
and closed the door
on easy escape
(Bohemia
sure is no tragedy
when vision
is your wilderness
& discovery,
your rain)
Dead artists
Lost revolutions,
prophecies
Books were my asylum
Yeah, I've read those pages
cover to cover
& reeking,
chased the dragon
all through creation,
ravenous as a satyr
And I know
the highway
in deep forest night
cold and seething
w/out mercy
a beast
which lies in wait,
rapt
like a vast poised
spider
sneaking to stalk
and seize
the poor hiker,
victimless wanderer
searcher
and only the moon
is horrible audience
to this pale drama
[-a scene from a
movie film picture show:
a girl exits bar
she is obviously drunk
and staggers, wildly
cars in the street
neon eyes
she grabs him, roughly,
by the arm
the sound of ruffled leather]
-"Hey, man, you wanna fuck?"
-Street Sonnet-
Streets of pain, streets of blood
Murders of madmen, laughter of good
Streets of terror, streets of hate
Streets of riot & horrible warring
Streets of the city gone wicked & wanton
Decadent & dark, the streets are whoring
Streets of Night and Hell are burning
Streets of sadness and black anarchy
Alone is a hooker out on streets of loss
and goddamnation, cruel as blasphemy
Streets are patterned in disease & lies,
poisoning souls and taking lives
Cold as exile, streets are the beast
Devouring power & the beauty of peace
Getting High Is...
Getting high is
subversion
and soulful expatiation
of the sensual,
deluging consciousness
w/limitlessness, volition
inversion and pure joy
sentiently
swimmingly
Lethe hath no refuse.
Phantasia sees
phantasia phantom fever
and forever in the
perfumed island summer,
good and warm
An afternoon temple
of scars & burst nostalgia,
beautiful brigade
& dark insane mosaic
we dancing made
Getting high is illuminati
quickened into being,
making love to a woman,
cooling to tunes
writing a poem
-Chance of This, Percent of That-
Chance of this, percent of that
Everything that makes us fat
He's very strange and violent
He's quite deranged yet silent
To the stars, to the sea
To the bars, I'll drink three!
Let us run! Come on, come on!
Let us run the wild dawn
Let wilderness and let the rain
Let ocean sex and let the pain
Go down down down deep below
Around downtown & San Francisco
We can seem like we're alive
But we dream and contrive
And we destroy and consume
And multiply and break too soon
Beneath the moon, under the sun
I've been to doom, O how aplomb!
Can't anything be simple face?
(Can we just be and fuck the race?!)
Let us exalt all creation
Let's indulge in copulation
Naked as breasts, shoulders & neck
I tongue her flesh, her silk caress
All Things are as they should be
Revolution?! Anarchy!!
Let dreamers dream & all the rest
The sane & the mad & the cursed & the blessed
The Sands Are Stones...
The sands are stones on
shores, cold & sullen
howling out winds,
strong and sorrowless,
shrieking, wrought
terrible screams
wreaking scars
o mindless meanders
& wanders thru limbo
the waters & exiles
of darkness
Pain
smile sweetly
the beast has got you
Down here in the
continuum & gradation
We find lies aplenty
Ah, far too many
Names of mystery and
tragedy
& discovery and more
Ah, and old bloody bones
prince of debauch
(I slit my own throat)
O let the rains, gently
and the horrors
& night and the ruin
and All
Yeah, let the wilderness calm
The Quintessence of the Thing...
The quintessence of the Thing
is horrid and wanton, repulsed
nauseous saddening remorseless and
rot ridden stark & haunting, stalking,
reeking fetid, dark and maddening
pale in splinters and thunder's good
cool chaos and crashings of cold
order and ramparts, we cruel oblivion
Yeah, borne wretched
utterly of Night & Hell
and all its sorrows,
depravities & slayings,
decayings and scorn
Awakened, deathly,
to horrors more wrought
than violence
more evil than alive
more hideous
more sensuous
pummelled rancor of beast delight and
angels & sentience (prescience), rapture,
desirous, swimmingly, corporeal and
writhing; the whorey naked, dancing
and fucking; reckless; slippering.
Amassing and warring and spent,
stricken like fire, out of the rising east-
Fear is a sick wind.
Ah, feast!
And it's mournful tragic fuckin'
riotous desperate flaming
bursting surging, all raging
& wild and horrible & throbbing
like an anarchy of worms,
maggots, slugs
Out on the verge of Exile
Endlessly
More alone than necrophiles
More temporal than pain
We go insane
We go insane
Come on, we go insane!
Among yur numbers
are conquest
wisdom
joy
The orgasm of the senses
is swift, sad, savage & soft.
A satori of wildernesses and
burning and megalopolises of
ecstacies, blood, dark venom
Suffering of orgies
of passions
we madly winding
screaming-
-Strange-
This is a bizarre
arrival
& fabric of contrived
creation,
empirical and mad
(Who thought of this?
Yes, whose Idea was it?
-to include orgasms w/sex
and wild drunkenness
w/prescribed combinations
of hops and barley
to measure manhood against
suffered follies, weaknesses
to baffle us, incomprehensible
to let the earth & wilderness
and moon and sun and stars
of other suns and solar systems
and galaxies & supernovas
and black holes, inhaling and
quasars streaking out, utterly)
Did I?
Have we?
"Oh, I've committed the..."
I'm always expecting a shot
to the face
and lefts and rights
& steel toed boots
to the teeth
I keep waiting for
clean death to come for me
Some insanity against this
order would be kinder, gentler
to the weary, the wicked
(or what armor shall we
possess to defend from
humanity's warring spawn:
-Progress)
Now, I walk through
the city
and down each street,
each sorrow lane,
alone and horrible,
desperate for the beast
& savage which never
comes but eyes crawl by
all scorned and dark
and hideous and free
The cruel ambience
I wanton breathe
and no constraint
Evolution
is a burden
we've all been borne
There are no whorey
morals, no policies
of Being
we One, we All
~~~~~~~~~~
syrup skin
eyes
of heaven,
glorious
goddess love
of symmetry
& one caress
(last kiss)
embrace
Angel of
darkness
avenging vice
sorrowful
pined
Beautiful
A vision
divinely
like an ethereal
princess
deprived bliss
smooth
shoulder, naked
sweet taste
Ah, blessed-
~~~~~~~~~~
An Afternoon of Summer...
An afternoon of summer
doom
The fall The all
in the August gloom
In the abyss of ruin
It's too soon!
Too consumed
It gnarls & festers, darkly
in the depths like a
womb or tomb
Maggots thrive there
Writhe & derive there
It thunders & storms
seethingly
from the bowels
like a cancer
We sure know well the
counted hours of entropy
like the moment before
orgasm
I love little deaths.
Clouds roll by, o'erhead
gently like low bestial
spectres; witnessing,
discovering, invoking in
swirls, whorls & rotten seeing
Phantom lords
Approaching the edges of
night and hell is an easy
tandem to the purely
sensual and maniacal
and the fiends
(cruel ripping hideous
and horrible
it's the descent that
1st possessed you)
Soulful vertigo
Yeah, it's fun to see how
defiled & savage you are
in your own damned ennui
I twist and contort and turn
out my insides and leer
like a worm deep in the
dirt and stones of some
strange wilderness
Above, the Sun is a great
whorey beast whose bosom
is Her warmth, whose
caress is Her illumination
O glorious phantastic decay!
Beautiful atrophy!
Ah, and let the forests and
fields and the highway and
river. Let the fated symmetry.
Yeah, we are alive and dying
on landscapes of sin & disease
Terrible in numbers...
-Fearsome-
The city at night
and still
The moon's jewelled light
gone ill
A man walks alleys
drunk and staggers
Insanity's mad swill;
brewed rancors
They followed him round
Kicked him down
Those armed two
to spear him through
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