Soul brightness under blue sky

  Assembled before White House filled with mustached Germans

  & police buttons, army telephones, CIA Buzzers, FBI bugs

  Secret Service walkie-talkies, Intercom squawkers to Narco

  Fuzz & Florida Mafia Real Estate Speculators.

  One hundred thousand bodies naked before an Iron Robot

  Nixon’s brain Presidential cranium case spying thru binoculars

  from the Paranoia Smog Factory’s East Wing.

  May 9, 1970

  Ecologue

  In a thousand years, if there’s History

  America’ll be remembered as a nasty little Country

  full of Pricks, thorny hothouse rose

  Cultivated by the Yellow Gardeners.

  “Chairman Mao” for all his politics, head of a Billion

  folk, important old & huge

  Nixon a dude, specialized on his industrial

  Island, a clean paranoiac Mechanic—

  Earth rolling round, epics on archaic tongues

  fishermen telling island tales—

  all autos rusted away,

  trees everywhere.

  •

  Rough Wind roar, mapletop mass

  shaking in window,

  a panic Cry from the garden

  Bessie Cow’s loose near the Corn!

  The little dakini playing her bells

  & listening to late baritone Dylan

  dancing in the living room’s forgot almost

  th’electric supply’s vanishing

  from the batteries in the pasture.

  Chairs shifting downstairs, kitchen voices

  Smell of apples & tomatoes bubbling on the stove.

  Behind the Chicken house, dirt flies from the shovel

  hour after hour, tomorrow they’ll be a big hole.

  The editor sleeps in his bed, morning Chores are done,

  Clock hands move noonward, pig roots by flagstone

  pathways, papers & letters lie quiet

  on many desks.

  Books everywhere, Kabbalah, Gnostic Fragments, Mahanirvana & Hevajra Tantras, Boehme Blake & Zohar, Gita & Soma Veda, somebody reads—one cooks, another digs a pighouse foundation, one chases a Cow from the vegetable garden, one dances and sings, one writes in a notebook, one plays with the ducks, one never speaks, one picks the guitar, one moves huge rocks.

  The wind charger’s propeller

  whirs & trees rise windy

  one maple at woods edge’s turned red.

  Chickens bathe in dust at the house wall,

  rabbit at fence bends his nose to a handful of Cornsilk,

  fly lights on windowsill.

  At the end of a long chain, Billy makes a Circle in grass

  by the fence, I approach

  he stands still with long red stick

  stretched throbbing between hind legs

  Spurts water a minute, turns his head down

  to look & lick his thin pee squirt—

  That’s why he smells goat like.

  Horse by barbed wire licking salt,

  lifts his long head & neighs

  as I go down by willow thicket

  to find the 3-day-old heifer.

  At bed in long grass, wet brown fur—

  her mother stands, nose covered with a hundred flies.

  The well’s filled up—

  the Cast-iron ram

  that pushes water uphill

  by hydraulic pressure

  flowed from gravity

  Can be set to motion soon,

  & water flow in kitchen sink tap.

  some nights in sleeping bag

  Cricket zinging networks dewy meadows,

  white stars sparkle across black sky,

  falling asleep I listen & watch

  till eyes close, and wake silent—

  at 4 A.M. the whole sky’s moved,

  a Crescent moon lamps up the woods.

  & last week one Chill night

  summer disappeared—

  little apples in old trees red,

  tomatoes red & green on vines,

  green squash huge under leafspread,

  corn thick in light green husks,

  sleepingbag wet with dawn dews

  & that one tree red at woods’ edge!

  Louder wind! ther’ll be electric to play the Beatles!

  At summer’s end the white pig got so fat

  it weighed more than Georgia

  Ray Bremser’s 3-year-old baby.

  Scratch her named Dont Bite Me under hind leg,

  she flops over on her side sweetly grunting,

  nosing in grass tuft roots, soft belly warm.

  Eldridge Cleaver exiled w/ bodyguards in Algiers

  Leary sleeping in an iron cell,

  John Sinclair a year jailed in Marquette

  Each day’s paper more violent—

  War outright shameless bombs

  Indochina to Minneapolis—

  a knot in my belly to read between lines,

  lies, beatings in jail—

  Short breath on the couch—

  desolation at dawn in bed—

  Wash dishes in the sink, drink tea, boil an egg—

  brood over Cities’ suffering millions two

  hundred miles away

  down the oilslicked, germ-Chemicaled

  Hudson river.

  Ed Hermit comes down hill

  breaks off a maple branch

  & offers fresh green leaves to the pink eyed rabbit.

  Under birch, yellow mushrooms

  sprout between grassblades & ragweed—

  Eat ’em & you die or get high & see God—

  Waiting for the exquisite mycologist’s visit.

  Winter’s coming, build a rough wood crib

  & fill it with horse dung, hot horse dung,

  all round the house sides.

  Bucolics & Eclogues!

  Hesiod the beginning of the World,

  Virgil the end of his World—

  & Catullus sucked cock in the country

  far from the Emperor’s police.

  Empire got too big, cities too crazy, garbage-filled Rome

  full of drunken soldiers, fat politicians,

  circus businessmen—

  Safer, healthier life on a farm, make yr own wine

  in Italy, smoke yr own grass in America.

  Pond’s down two feet from drainpipe’s rusty top—

  Timothy turned brown, covered with new spread manure

  sweet-smelt in strong breeze,

  it’ll be covered in snow couple months.

  & Leary covered in snow in San Luis Obispo jail?

  His mind snowflakes falling over the States.

  Did Don Winslow the mason come look at the basement

  So we can insulate a snug root cellar

  for potatoes, beets, carrots,

  radishes, parsnips, glass jars of corn & beans

  Did the mortician come & look us over for next Winter?

  Black flies walking up and down the metal screen,

  fly’s leg tickling my forehead—

  “I’ll play a fly’s bone flute

  & beat an ant’s egg drum”

  sang the Quechua Injun

  high on Huilca snuff, Medieval

  Peruvian DMT.

  Phil Whalen in Japan

  stirring rice, eyes in the garden,

  fine pen nib lain by notebook.

  Jack in Lowell farming worms, master of his

  minuscule deep acre.

  Neal’s ashes sitting under a table piled with

  books, in an oak drawer,

  sunlight thru suburb windows.

  O wind! spin the generator wheel, make Power Juice

  To run the New Exquisite Noise Recorder, & I’ll sing

  praise of your tree music.

  Squash leaves wave & ragweeds lean, black tarpaulin

  plastic flutters over the bass-wood lumber pile
br />
  Hamilton Fish’s Congressional letter

  reports “Stiffer laws against peddling smut”

  flapping in dusty spiderwebs by the windowscreen.

  What’s the Ammeter read by the Windmill? Will

  we record Highest Perfect Wisdom all day tomorrow,

  or Blake’s Schoolboy uninterrupted next week?

  Fine rain-slant showering the gray porch

  Returnable Ginger Ale Bottles

  on the wood rail, white paint flaked

  off into orange flowered

  blossoms

  Out in the garden, rain

  all over the grass, leaves, roofs,

  rain on the laundry.

  •

  Night winds hiss thru maple black masses

  Gas light shine from

  farmhouse window upstairs

  empty kitchen wind

  Cassiopeia zigzag

  Milky Way thru cloud

  September 4

  The baby pig screamed and screamed

  four feet rigid on grass

  screamed and screamed

  Oh No! Oh No!

  jaw dripping blood

  broken by the horse’s hoof.

  Slept in straw all afternoon, eyes closed,

  snout at rest between paws—

  ate hog mash liquid—two weeks

  and his skull be healed

  said the Vet in overalls.

  That bedraggled duck’s sat under the door

  June to Labor Day, three hatched

  yellow chicks’ dry fur bones found

  by the garage side—

  two no-good eggs left, nights chillier—

  Next week, move her nest

  to the noisy chickenhouse.

  We buried lady dog by the apple tree—

  spotted puppy daughter Radha

  sniffed her bloated corpse, flies

  whisping round eyeball & dry nostril,

  sweet rot-smell, stiff legs, anus puffed out,

  Sad Eyes chased the milk truck & got killed.

  How many black corpses they found in the river

  looking for Goodman, Chaney, Schwerner?

  Man and wife, they weep in the attic

  after bitter voices,

  low voices threatening.

  Broken Legs in Vietnam!

  Eyes staring at heaven,

  Eyes weeping at earth.

  Millions of bodies in pain!

  Who can live with this Consciousness

  and not wake frightened at sunrise?

  The Farm’s a lie!

  Madmen growing giant organic zucchini

  mulching asparagus, boiling tomatoes for Winter,

  drying beans, pickling cucumbers

  sweet & garlicked, salting cabbage for sauerkraut,

  canning fresh corn & tossing Bessie husks—

  Marie Antoinette had milkmaid costumes ready,

  Robespierre’s eyeball hung on his cheek

  in the tumbril to guillotine—

  Black Panther’s teeth knocked out in Paterson,

  red blood clotted on black hairy skin—

  Millions of bodies in pain!

  One by one picked orange striped soft potato bugs off

  withered brown leaves

  dropped them curl’d up in kerosene,

  or smeared them on ground with small stones—

  Moon rocket earth photo, peacock colored,

  tacked to the wood wall,

  globe in black sky

  living eyeball bathed in cloud swirls—

  Is Earth herself frightened?

  Does she know?

  Oh No! Oh No! the Continuous scream

  of the pig

  Don’t Bite Me in the backyard,

  bloody jawbone askew.

  Uphill on pine forest floor

  Indian peace pipes curl’d up thru dry needles,

  half translucent fungus, half metal blossom

  Frog sat half out on mud shallows’

  minnow-rippling surface,

  & stared at our Universe—

  So many fish frog, insect ephemera, swamp fern

  —So many Ezekiel-wheeled Dragonflies

  hovering over old Hemlock root moss—

  They wont even know when humans go

  Waking 2 A.M. clock tick

  What was I dreaming

  my body alert

  Police light down this dirt road?

  Justice Dogs sniffing field for Grass Seeds?

  Would they find a little brown mushroom button

  tossed out my window?

  BI read this haiku?

  Four in the morning

  rib thrill eyes open—

  Deep hum thru the house—

  Windmill Whir? Hilltop Radar Blockhouse?

  Valley Traffic 5 miles downtown?

  When’ll Policecar Machinery assemble

  outside State pine woods?

  Head out window—bright Orion star line,

  Pleiades and Dipper shining silent—

  Bathrobe flashlight, uproad Milky Way

  Moved round the house this month

  —remember Taurus’ Horn up there last fall?

  White rabbit on goat meadow, got over the chickenwire?

  Hop away from flash light? Wait till Godly

  Dog wakes up!

  Come back! He’ll bite you! Here’s a green beet leaf!

  Pwzxst! Pwzxst! Pwzxst!

  Attic window lit between trees,

  Clouds drift past the sickle moon—

  Tiny lights in the dark sky

  Stars & Crickets everywhere

  Electric whistle-blinks

  tweedle-twinks

  Squeak-peeks

  Locust planet

  zephyr sizzle

  Squinks—

  Grasshoppers in cold dewy fall grass

  Singing lovesongs as they die.

  •

  Morning, the white rabbit stiff, eyes closed,

  lain belly up in grass, tooth nosed,

  beside the manure pile—dig a hole

  —Shoulda introduced him to dogs in daylight—

  Cripple Jack drove up

  to judge the ducks—

  All eggs sterile,

  smashed on rock, wet guts

  & rotted-throat smell—

  Bedraggled duck mother,

  dragged off straw nest

  & pecking skin at my wrist,

  All afternoon walked up and down quacking

  thru chickenwire fence

  Pig on her side woke up,

  slurped beet juice, rooted at porch wood

  ignorant of broken head bones—

  Morning dew, papery leafs & sharp blossoms

  of sunflower ripped off battered stalks,

  Who’d do that!? Too late

  to fix the barbed wire fence,

  intelligent Bessie Cow strays in the moonlight.

  Leary’s climbed the chainlink fence & two strands of

  barbedwire too

  This weekend, “Armed & Dangerous,”

  Signed with Weathermen!

  Has Revolution begun? World War III?

  May no Evil Eye peek thru window, keyhole or

  gunsight at his white haired face!

  Now’s halfmoon over America,

  leaves tinged red fall blush scattered overhill,

  down pasture singular trees orange foreheads think

  Autumn time in pines—

  The maple at woods’ edge fire-red’s brighter

  Australian Aborigines’ Eternal Dream Time’s come true—

  Usta be bears on East Hill; fox under old Hemlock,

  Usta be otter—even woolly mammoths in Eternal

  dream time—

  Leary’s out in the woods of the world—cockroaches immune

  to radiation?

  Richard Nixon has means to end human Worlds,

  Man has machines for Suicide,

  Pray for Timothy Leary in the planet’s
Woods!

  Om Mani Padme Hu?

  & Hare Krishna!

  “ As we forgive those who trespass against us,

  Thy Will be done

  on Earth as in Heaven”

  Oh Bessie you ate my unborn sunflowers!

  “God never repeats himself” Harry Smith telephoned tonite.

  We may not come back, Richard Nixon.

  We may not come back, dear hidden Tim.

  Will Peter fix the sink’s hand pump? the basement freeze?

  Backyard grasses stink, if kitchen drains

  to septic tank, will Bacteria die

  of soap, Ammonia & Kerosene?

  Get rid of that old tractor or fix it!

  Cardboard boxes rotten in garageside rain!

  Old broken City desks under the appletree! Cleanum

  up for firewood!

  Where can we keep all summer’s bottles?

  Gas pumps, broken mandolins, old tires—

  Ugly backyard—Shelf the garage!

  Where stack lumber handy to eye?

  Electric generator money? Where keep mops in Wintertime?

  Leary fugitive, Sinclair sent up for a decade—

  though 83% of World’s illegal opium’s fixed

  in Central Intelligence Agency’s Indochinese Brain!

  Fed State Local Narcs peddle junk—

  Nixon got a hard hat from Mafia,

  Pentagon Public Relations boodle’s 190 million A.D. 1969.

  J. E. Hoover’s a sexual blackmailer,

  Times pities “idealistic students”

  Police killed 4 Blacks in New Orleans

  Fascism in America:—

  i.e. Police control Cities, not Mayors or philosophers—

  Police, & Police alone, cause most crime.

  Preventive Detention now law in D.C.

  Mexico & Senegal close borders to Adam Longhair

  So many apples in abandoned orchards,

  and such fresh sweet Cider, supper tonite—

  onions & cabbage fried on iron—

  groundwells overflow, hydraulic ram

  works steady again,

  Eclogues! the town laundry’s detergent phosphate

  glut’s foul’d clear Snyders Creek—

  I have a beautiful boy in the house,

  learn keyboard notation, chords, & improvise

  freely on Blake’s mantras at midnite.

  Hesiod annaled Beginnings

  I annal ends for No man.

  Hail to the Gods, who are given Consciousness.

  Hail to Men Conscious of the Gods!

  Electric tempest!

  Entire hillsides turned wet gold,

  Leaf death’s begun, universal September