Now homunculus I made’s out there in American streets

  talking with my voice, accounted ledgered opinionated

  Interviewed & Codified in Poems, books & manuscripts, whole library

  shelves stacked with ambitious egohood’s thousand pages imaged

  forth smart selft over half a lifetime! Who’m I now, Frankenstein

  hypocrite of good Cheer whose sick-stomached Discretion’s grown

  fifty years overweight—while others I hate practice sainthood in Himalayas

  or run the petrochemical atomic lamplit machines, by whose power

  I slumber cook my meat & write these verses captive of N.Y.C.

  What’s my sickness, flu virus or Selfhood infected swollen sore

  confronting the loath’d work of poetic flattery: Gurus, Rock stars

  Penthoused millionaires, White House alrightniks crowding my brain

  with orders & formulae, insults & smalltalk, threats & dollars

  Whose sucker am I, the media run by rich whitemen like myself, jew

  intellectuals afraid of poverty bust screaming beaten uncontrolled behind bars

  or the black hole of narcotics Cops & brutal Mafiosi, thick men in dark hats,

  hells angels in blue military garb or wall street cashmere drag

  hiding iron muscles of money, so the street is full of potholes, I’m afraid

  to go out at night around the block to look at the moon in the Lower East Side

  where stricken junkies break their necks in damp hallways of

  abandoned buildings gutted & blackwindowed from old fires. I’m afraid

  to write my thoughts down lest I libel Nelson Rockefeller, Fidel

  Castro, Chögyam Trungpa, Louis Ginsberg & Naomi, Kerouac or Peter O.

  yea Henry Kissinger & Richard Helms, faded ghosts of Power and Poesy

  that people my brain with paranoia, my best friend shall be Nameless.

  Whose public speech is this I write? What stupid vast Complaint!

  For what impotent professor’s ears, which Newsman’s brainwave? What jazz king’s devil blues?

  Is this Immortal history to tell tales of 20th Century to striplings

  naked centuries hence? To get laid by some brutal queen who’ll

  beat my hairy buttocks punishment in a College Dorm? To show my ass

  to god? To grovel in magic tinsel & glitter on stinking powdered pillows?

  Agh! Who’ll I read this to like a fool! Who’ll applaud these lies

  December 16, 1977

  Ballade of Poisons

  With oil that streaks streets a magic color,

  With soot that falls on city vegetables

  With basement sulfurs & coal black odor

  With smog that purples suburbs’ sunset hills

  With Junk that feebles black & white men’s wills

  With plastic bubbles aeons will dissolve

  With new plutoniums that only resolve

  Their poison heat in quarter million years,

  With pesticides that round food Chains revolve

  May your soul make home, may your eyes weep tears.

  With freak hormones in chicken & soft egg

  With panic red dye in cow meat burger

  With mummy med’cines, nitrate in sliced pig

  With sugar’d cereal kids scream for murder,

  With Chemic additives that cause Cancer

  With bladder and mouth in your salami,

  With Strontium Ninety in milks of Mommy,

  With sex voices that spill beer thru your ears

  With Cups of Nicotine till you vomit

  May your soul make home, may your eyes weep tears.

  With microwave toaster television

  With Cadmium lead in leaves of fruit trees

  With Trade Center’s nocturnal emission

  With Coney Island’s shore plopped with Faeces

  While blue Whales sing in high infrequent seas

  With Amazon worlds with fish in ocean

  Washed in Rockefellers greasy Potion

  With oily toil fueled with atomic fears

  With CIA tainting World emotion

  May your soul make home, may your eyes weep tears.

  Envoi

  President, ’spite cockroach devotion,

  Folk poisoned with radioactive lotion,

  ’Spite soulless bionic energy queers

  May your world move to healthy emotion,

  Make your soul at home, let your eyes weep tears.

  January 12, 1978

  Lack Love

  Love wears down to bare truth

  My heart hurt me much in youth

  Now I hear my real heart beat

  Strong and hollow thump of meat

  I felt my heart wrong as an ache

  Sore in dreams and raw awake

  I’d kiss each new love on the chest

  Trembling hug him breast to breast

  Kiss his belly, kiss his eye

  Kiss his ruddy boyish thigh

  Kiss his feet kiss his pink cheek

  Kiss behind him naked meek

  Now I lie alone, and a youth

  Stalks my house, he won’t in truth

  Come to bed with me, instead

  Loves the thoughts inside my head

  He knows how much I think of him

  Holds my heart his painful whim

  Looks thru me with mocking eyes

  Steals my feelings, drinks & lies

  Till I see Love’s empty Truth

  Think back on heart broken youth

  Hear my heart beat red in bed

  Thick and living, love rejected.

  New York, February 8, 1978, 3 A.M.

  Father Guru

  Father Guru unforlorn

  Heart beat Guru whom I scorn

  Empty Guru Never Born

  Sitting Guru every morn

  Friendly Guru chewing corn

  Angry Guru Faking Porn

  Guru Guru Freely torn

  Garment Guru neatly worn

  Guru Head short hair shorn

  Absent Guru Eyes I mourn

  Guru of Duncan Guru of Dorn

  Ginsberg Guru like a thorn

  Goofy Guru Lion Horn

  Lonely Guru Unicorn

  O Guru whose slave I’m sworn

  Save me Guru Om Ah Hum

  Austin, February 14, 1978

  Manhattan May Day Midnight

  I walked out on the lamp shadowed concrete at midnight May Day passing a dark’d barfront,

  police found corpses under the floor last year, call-girls & Cadillacs lurked there on First Avenue

  around the block from my apartment, I’d come downstairs for tonight’s newspapers—

  refrigerator repair shop’s window grate padlocked, fluorescent blue

  light on a pile of newspapers, pages shifting in the chill Spring wind

  ’round battered cans & plastic refuse bags leaned together at the pavement edge—

  Wind wind and old news sailed thru the air, old Times whirled above the garbage.

  At the Corner of 11th under dim Street-light in a hole in the ground

  a man wrapped in work-Cloth and wool Cap pulled down his bullet skull

  stood & bent with a rod & flashlight turning round in his pit halfway sunk in earth

  Peering down at his feet, up to his chest in the asphalt by a granite Curb

  where his work mate poked a flexible tube in a tiny hole, a youth in gloves

  who answered my question “Smell of gas—Someone must’ve reported in”—

  Yes the body stink of City bowels, rotting tubes six feet under

  Could explode any minute sparked by Con Ed’s breathing Puttering truck

  I noticed parked, as I passed by hurriedly Thinking Ancient Rome, Ur

  Were they like this, the same shadowy surveyors & passers-by

  scribing records of decaying pipes & Garbage piles on Marble, Cuneiform,

  ordinary midnight citizen
out on the street looking for Empire News,

  rumor, gossip, workmen police in uniform, walking silent sunk in thought

  under windows of sleepers coupled with Monster squids & Other-Planet eyeballs in their sheets

  in the same night six thousand years old where Cities rise & fall & turn to dream?

  May 1, 1978, 6 A.M.

  ADAPTED FROM Neruda’s

  “Que dispierte el leñador”

  V

  Let the Railsplitter Awake!

  Let Lincoln come with his ax

  and with his wooden plate

  to eat with the farmworkers.

  May his craggy head,

  his eyes we see in constellations,

  in the wrinkles of the live oak,

  come back to look at the world

  rising up over the foliage

  higher than Sequoias.

  Let him go shop in pharmacies,

  let him take the bus to Tampa

  let him nibble a yellow apple,

  let him go to the movies, and

  talk to everybody there.

  Let the Railsplitter awake!

  Let Abraham come back, let his old yeast

  rise in green and gold earth of Illinois,

  and lift the ax in his city

  against the new slavemakers

  against their slave whips

  against the venom of the print houses

  against all the bloodsoaked

  merchandise they want to sell.

  Let the young white boy and young black

  march singing and smiling

  against walls of gold,

  against manufacturers of hatred,

  against the seller of his own blood,

  singing, smiling and winning at last.

  Let the Railsplitter awake!

  VI

  Peace for all twilights to come,

  peace for the bridge, peace for the wine,

  peace for the letters that look for me

  and pump in my blood tangled

  with earth and love’s old chant,

  peace for the city in the morning

  when bread wakes up,

  peace for Mississippi, the river of roots,

  peace for my brother’s shirt,

  peace in the book like an airmail stamp,

  peace for the great Kolkhoz of Kiev,

  peace for the ashes of these dead

  and those other dead, peace for the black

  iron of Brooklyn, peace for the lettercarrier

  going from house to house like the day,

  peace for the choreographer shrieking

  thru a funnel of honeysuckle vines,

  peace to my right hand

  that only wants to write Rosario,

  peace for the Bolivian, secret as a lump of tin,

  peace for you to get married, peace

  for all the sawmills of Bio-Bio,

  peace to Revolutionary Spain’s torn heart

  peace to the little museum of Wyoming

  in which the sweetest thing

  was a pillowcase embroidered with a heart,

  peace to the baker and his loaves,

  and peace to all the flour: peace

  for all the wheat still to be born,

  peace for all the love that wants to flower,

  peace for all those who live: peace

  to all the lands and waters.

  And here I say farewell, I return

  to my house, in my dreams

  I go back to Patagonia where

  the wind beats at barns

  and the Ocean spits ice.

  I’m nothing more than a poet:

  I want love for you all,

  I go wander the world I love:

  in my country they jail the miners

  and soldiers give orders to judges.

  But down to its very roots

  I love my little cold country.

  If I had to die a thousand times

  that’s where I’d want to die:

  if I had to be born a thousand times

  that’s where I’d want to be born,

  near the Araucanian wilds’

  sea-whirled south winds,

  bells just brought from the bellmaker.

  Don’t let anybody think about me.

  Let’s think about the whole world,

  banging on the table with love.

  I don’t want blood to come back

  and soak the bread, the beans

  the music: I want the miner

  to come with me, the little girl,

  the lawyer, the sailor, the dollmaker,

  let’s all go to the movies and come

  out and drink the reddest wine.

  I didn’t come here to solve anything.

  I came here to sing

  And for you to sing with me.

  Boulder, 1978–1981

  Nagasaki Days

  I A Pleasant Afternoon

  for Michael Brownstein & Dick Gallup

  One day 3 poets & 60 ears sat under a green-striped Chautauqua tent in Aurora

  listening to Black spirituals, tapping their feet, appreciating words singing by in mountain winds

  on a pleasant sunny day of rest—the wild wind blew thru blue Heavens

  filled with fluffy clouds stretched from Central City to Rocky Flats, Plutonium sizzled in its secret bed,

  hot dogs sizzled in the Lions Club lunchwagon microwave mouth, orangeade bubbled over in waxen cups

  Traffic moved along Colefax, meditators silent in the Diamond Castle shrine-room at Boulder followed the breath going out of their nostrils,

  Nobody could remember anything, spirits flew out of mouths & noses, out of the sky, across Colorado plains & the tent flapped happily open spacious & didn’t fall down.

  June 18, 1978

  II Peace Protest

  Cumulus clouds float across blue sky

  over the white-walled Rockwell Corporation factory

  —am I going to stop that?

  *

  Rocky Mountains rising behind us

  Denver shining in morning light

  —Led away from the crowd by police and photographers

  *

  Middleaged Ginsberg & Ellsberg taken down the road

  to the grayhaired Sheriff’s van—

  But what about Einstein? What about Einstein? Hey, Einstein Come back!

  III Golden Courthouse

  Waiting for the Judge, breathing silent

  Prisoners, witnesses, Police—

  the stenographer yawns into her palms.

  August 9, 1978

  IV Everybody’s Fantasy

  I walked outside & the bomb’d

  dropped lots of plutonium

  all over the Lower East Side

  There weren’t any buildings left just

  iron skeletons

  groceries burned, potholes open to

  stinking sewer waters

  There were people starving and crawling

  across the desert

  the Martian UFOs with blue

  Light destroyer rays

  passed over and dried up all the

  waters

  Charred Amazon palmtrees for

  hundreds of miles on both sides

  of the river

  August 10, 1978

  V Waiting Room at the Rocky Flats Plutonium Plant

  “Give us the weapons we need to protect ourselves!”

  the bareheaded guard lifts his flyswatter above the desk

  —whap!

  *

  A green-letter’d shield on the pressboard wall!

  “Life is fragile. Handle with care”—

  My Goodness! here’s where they make the nuclear bomb-triggers.

  August 17, 1978

  VI Numbers in Red Notebook

  2,000,000 killed in Vietnam

  13,000,000 refugees in Indochina 1972

  200,000,000 years for the Galaxy to revolve on its core
r />   24,000 the Babylonian Great Year

  24,000 half life of plutonium

  2,000 the most I ever got for a poetry reading

  80,000 dolphins killed in the dragnet

  4,000,000,000 years earth been born

  Boulder, Summer 1978

  Plutonian Ode

  I

  1 What new element before us unborn in nature? Is there a new thing under the Sun?

  At last inquisitive Whitman a modern epic, detonative, Scientific theme

  First penned unmindful by Doctor Seaborg with poisonous hand, named for Death’s planet through the sea beyond Uranus

  whose chthonic ore fathers this magma-teared Lord of Hades, Sire of avenging Furies, billionaire Hell-King worshipped once

  5 with black sheep throats cut, priest’s face averted from underground mysteries in a single temple at Eleusis,

  Spring-green Persephone nuptialed to his inevitable Shade, Demeter mother of asphodel weeping dew,

  her daughter stored in salty caverns under white snow, black hail, gray winter rain or Polar ice, immemorable seasons before

  Fish flew in Heaven, before a Ram died by the starry bush, before the Bull stamped sky and earth

  or Twins inscribed their memories in cuneiform clay or Crab’d flood

  10 washed memory from the skull, or Lion sniffed the lilac breeze in Eden—

  Before the Great Year began turning its twelve signs, ere constellations wheeled for twenty-four thousand sunny years

  slowly round their axis in Sagittarius, one hundred sixty-seven thousand times returning to this night

  Radioactive Nemesis were you there at the beginning black Dumb tongueless unsmelling blast of Disillusion?

  I manifest your Baptismal Word after four billion years

  15 I guess your birthday in Earthling Night, I salute your dreadful presence lasting majestic as the Gods,

  Sabaot, Jehova, Astapheus, Adonaeus, Elohim, Iao, Ialdabaoth, Aeon from Aeon born ignorant in an Abyss of Light,

  Sophia’s reflections glittering thoughtful galaxies, whirlpools of star-spume silver-thin as hairs of Einstein!

  Father Whitman I celebrate a matter that renders Self oblivion!

  Grand Subject that annihilates inky hands & pages’ prayers, old orators’ inspired Immortalities,

  20 I begin your chant, openmouthed exhaling into spacious sky over silent mills at Hanford, Savannah River, Rocky Flats, Pantex, Burlington, Albuquerque