You didn’t wanna bomb!
Who said bomb?
Who said we hadda bomb?
Who said bomb?
Who said we hadda bomb?
Who said bomb?
Who said you hadda bomb?
Who said bomb?
Who said you hadda bomb?
Who wantsa bomb?
We don’t wanna bomb!
Who wantsa bomb?
We don’t wanna bomb!
Who wantsa bomb?
We don’t wanna bomb!
We don’t wanna
we don’t wanna
we don’t wanna bomb!
Who wanteda bomb?
Somebody musta wanteda bomb!
Who wanteda bomb?
Somebody musta wanteda bomb!
Who wanteda bomb?
Somebody musta wanteda bomb!
Who wanteda bomb?
Somebody musta wanteda bomb!
They wanteda bomb!
They neededa bomb!
They wanteda bomb!
They neededa bomb!
They wanteda bomb!
They neededa bomb!
They wanteda bomb!
They neededa bomb!
They thought they hadda bomb!
They thought they hadda bomb!
They thought they hadda bomb!
They thought they hadda bomb!
Saddam said he hadda bomb!
Bush said he better bomb!
Saddam said he hadda bomb!
Bush said he better bomb!
Saddam said he hadda bomb!
Bush said he better bomb!
Saddam said he hadda bomb!
Bush said he better bomb!
Whatdid he say he better bomb for?
Whatdid he say he better bomb for?
Whatdid he say he better bomb for?
Whatdid he say he better bomb for?
Hadda get ridda Saddam with a bomb!
Hadda get ridda Saddam with a bomb!
Hadda get ridda Saddam with a bomb!
Hadda get ridda Saddam with a bomb!
Saddam’s still there building a bomb!
Saddam’s still there building a bomb!
Saddam’s still there building a bomb!
Saddam’s still there building a bomb!
III
Armageddon did the job
Gog & Magog Gog & Magog
Armageddon did the job
Gog & Magog Gog & Magog
Gog & Magog Gog & Magog
Armageddon does the job
Gog & Magog Gog & Magog
Armageddon does the job
Armageddon for the mob
Gog & Magog Gog & Magog
Armageddon for the mob
Gog & Magog Gog & Magog
Gog & Magog Gog & Magog
Gog Magog Gog Magog
Gog & Magog Gog & Magog
Gog Magog Gog Magog
Gog Magog Gog Magog
Gog Magog Gog Magog
Gog Magog Gog Magog
Gog Magog Gog Magog
Ginsberg says Gog & Magog
Armageddon did the job.
February-June 1991
Supplication for the Rebirth of the Vidyadhara Chögyam Trungpa, Rinpoche
Dear Lord Guru who pervades the space of my mind
permeates the universe of my consciousness,
still empties my balding head and’s stabilized my wand’ring thought
to average equanimity in Manhattan & Boulder
Return return reborn in spirit & knowledge in human body
my own or others as continual Teacher of chaotic peace,
Return according to your vow to pacify magnetize enrich destroy
grasping angry stupidity in me my family friends & Sangha
Return in body speech & mind to enlighten my labors
& the labors of your meditators, thousands from L.A. to Halifax
to relieve sufferings of our brothers, lovers
family, friends, fellow citizens, nations and planet.
Remember your vow to be with us on our deathbeds
in living worlds where we dwell in your tender perspective
breathe with your conscious breath, catch ourselves thinking
& dissolve bomb dream, fear of our own skin & yelling argument
in the sky of your mind
Bend your efforts to regroup our community within your thought-body
& mind-space, the effects of your non-thought,
Turbulent ease of your spontaneous word & picture
nonmeditative compassion your original mind
These slogans were writ on the second day of June 1991
a sleepless night my brother’s 70th birthday on Long Island
my own sixty-fifth year in the human realm visiting his house
by the Vajra Poet Allen Ginsberg supplicating protection of his
Vajra Guru Chögyam Trungpa
June 2, 1991, 2:05 A.M.
After the Big Parade
Millions of people cheering and waving flags for joy in Manhattan
Yesterday’ve returned to their jobs and arthritis now Tuesday—
What made them want so much passion at last, such mutual delight—
Will they ever regain these hours of confetti’d ecstasy again?
Have they forgotten the Corridors of Death that gave such victory?
Will another hundred thousand desert deaths across the world be
cause for the next rejoicing?
June 11, 1991, 2:30 P.M.
Big Eats
Big deal bargains TV meat stock market news paper headlines love life Metropolis
Float thru air like thought forms float thru the skull, check the headlines catch the boyish ass that walks
Before you fall in bed blood sugar high blood pressure lower, lower, your lips grow cold.
Sooner or later let go what you loved hated or shrugged off, you walk in the park
You look at the sky, sit on a pillow, count up the stars in your head, get up and eat.
August 20, 1991
Not Dead Yet
Huffing puffing upstairs downstairs telephone
office mail checks secretary revolt—
The Soviet Legislative Communist bloc
inspired Gorbachev’s wife and Yeltsin
to shut up in terror or stand on a tank
in front of White House denouncing Putschists—
September breezes sway branches & leaves in
a calm schoolyard under humid grey sky,
Drink your decaf Ginsberg old communist New
York Times addict, be glad you’re not Trotsky.
September 16, 1991
Yiddishe Kopf
I’m Jewish because love my family matzoh ball soup.
I’m Jewish because my fathers mothers uncles grandmothers said “Jewish,” all the way back to Vitebsk & Kaminetz-Podolska via Lvov.
Jewish because reading Dostoyevsky at 13 I write poems at restaurant tables Lower East Side, perfect delicatessen intellectual.
Jewish because violent Zionists make my blood boil, Progressive indignation.
Jewish because Buddhist, my anger’s transparent hot air, I shrug my shoulders.
Jewish because monotheist Jews Catholics Moslems’re intolerable intolerant—
Blake sd. “6000 years of sleep” since antique Nobodaddy Adonai’s mind trap—Oy! such Meshuggeneh absolutes—
Senior Citizen Jewish paid my dues got half-fare card buses subways, discount movies—
Can’t imagine how these young people make a life, make a living.
How can they stand it, going out in the world with only $10 and a hydrogen bomb?
October 1991
John
I
No one liked my hair
Mother pulled it toward the movies
Father hit the top of my head
Street gangs set it afire
My dry hair, my
short hair, black hair, drab hair
/> my stupid hair—frizzled!
Till I met John,
John loved my hair
Twined his fingers in my delicate curly locks
Told me let it grow
John buried his face in my hair
kissed my hair
Murmured endearments “Oh oh oh” to the top of my skull
Patted me on the head
Stroked me from crown to neck nape—
Sat across from me on the subway and gazed at me lovingly—
II
They were whispering, elbows leaned on the wide marble balustrade
balcony lobby of the Majestic Theater—
talking Jerusalem, Moscow, Ballet, Quasars, Interest rates—
John came down from his seat, stopped at the top stair—
sat down, hands on his ears in despair—“I’ve stymied my feet!”
“What” they asked, “you’ve stymied your feet? Whazzat mean?”
John nodded his head, eyes closed, hands against his head as before,
“I’ve stymied my feet,” he repeated dolefully.
III
John had AIDS.
First, he began talking to himself.
The psychiatrist said:
“If you’re going to talk to yourself,
do it in the form of poetry.”
November 7, 1991, 8:30 A.M.
A Thief Stole This Poem
These days steal everything
People steal your wallet, your watch
Break into your car steal your radio suitcase
Break in your house, your Sony Hi 8 your CD VCR Olympus XA
People steal your life, catch you on the street & steal your head off
Steal your sneakers in the toilet
Steal your love, mug your boyfriend rape your grandmother on the subway
Junkies steal your heart for medicine, they steal your credibility gap over the radio
Cokeheads & blackmen steal your comfort, peace of mind walking Avenue A your laundry package
steal your spirit, you gotta worry
Puerto Ricans steal white skin from your face
Wasps steal your planet for junk bonds, Jews steal your Nobodaddy and leave their dirty God in your bed
Arabs steal your pecker & you steal their oil
Everybody’s stealing from everyone else, time sex wristwatch money
Steal your sleep 6 A.M. Garbage Trucks boomboxes sirens loud arguments hydrogen bombs
steal your universe.
December 19, 1991, 8:15 A.M.
Lunchtime
Birds chirp in the brick backyard Radio
piano chopping gentle chords next door
A rush of tires & car exhaust on 14th Street
Delighted to be alive this cloudy Thursday
February window open at the kitchen table,
Senior Citizen ready for next week’s angiogram.
February 20, 1992, 1:15 P.M.
Deadline Dragon Comix
After Lalon
I
It’s true I got caught in
the world
When I was young Blake
tipped me off
Other teachers followed:
Better prepare for Death
Don’t get entangled with
possessions
That was when I was young,
I was warned
Now I’m a Senior Citizen
and stuck with a million
books
a million thoughts a million
dollars a million
loves
How’ll I ever leave my body?
Allen Ginsberg says, I’m
really up shits creek
II
I sat at the foot of a
Lover
and he told me everything
Fuck off, 23 skidoo,
watch your ass,
watch your step
exercise, meditate, think
of your temper—
Now I’m an old man and
I won’t live another
20 years maybe not another
20 weeks,
maybe the next second I’ll
be carried off to
rebirth
the worm farm, maybe it’s
already happened—
How should I know, says
Allen Ginsberg
Maybe I’ve been dreaming
all along—
III
It’s 2 A.M. and I got to
get up early
and taxi 20 miles to satisfy
my ambition—
How’d I get into this fix,
this workaholic show
biz meditation market?
If I had a soul I sold it
for pretty words
If I had a body I used
it up spurting my essence
If I had a mind it got
covered with Love—
If I had a spirit I forgot
when I was breathing
If I had speech it was
all a boast
If I had desire it went
out my anus
If I had ambitions to
be liberated
how’d I get into this
wrinkled person?
With pretty words, Love essences,
breathing boasts, anal
longings, famous crimes?
What a mess I am, Allen Ginsberg.
IV
Sleepless I stay up &
think about my Death
—certainly it’s nearer
than when I was ten
years old
and wondered how big the
universe was—
If I dont get some rest I’ll die faster
If I sleep I’ll lose my
chance for salvation—
asleep or awake, Allen
Ginsberg’s in bed
in the middle of the night.
V
4 A.M.
Then they came for me,
I hid in the toilet stall
They broke down the toilet door
It fell in on an innocent boy
Ach the wooden door fell
in on an innocent kid!
I stood on the bowl & listened,
I hid my shadow,
they shackled the other and
dragged him away
in my place— How long can
I get away with this?
Pretty soon they’ll discover
I’m not there
They’ll come for me again, where
can I hide my body?
Am I myself or some one else
or nobody at all?
Then what’s this heavy flesh this
weak heart leaky kidney?
Who’s been doing time
for 65 years
in this corpse? Who else went
into ecstasy besides me?
Now it’s all over soon,
what good was all that come?
Will it come true? Will
it really come true?
VI
I had my chance and lost it,
many chances & didn’t
take them seriously enuf.
Oh yes I was impressed, almost
went mad with fear
I’d lose the immortal chance,
One lost it.
Allen Ginsberg warns you
dont follow my path
to extinction.
March 31, 1992
Get It?
Get beat up on TV squirming on the ground for driving irregular
Get bombed in Philadelphia by helicopters with your little babies
Get kicked in the street by Newark police and charged w/riot
Get assassinated by a jerk while FBI sleeps with itself
Get shot by a stringer for the CIA & blame it on Fair Play for Cuba Committee
Get bumped off by an errandboy for Cuban drug kingpins,
friend of the Feds & Dallas cops
Get caught paying off Contras with coke money while Acting U.S. Drug War Czar
Get busted for overcharging Iranians on secret warplane sales
Get convicted of lying to Congress about off-the-shelf dirty wars in Central America
Get 12 billion dollars for a drug bureaucracy and double the number of addicts
Get a million people in prison in the land of the free
Get the electric chair & gas chamber for unpopular crimes
Organize Citizens for Decency Through Law rob your own phony bank several billion dollars get sent to jail
May 1992
New York
Angelic Black Holes
By Andrey Voznesensky
Soul to crotch the streets commit hara-kiri,
Burnt-out stores chessboard moonlit households,
The City of Angels stares into black holes—
See down through Earth to scorched Nagorno-Karabakh.
How long is the tunnel of pain?
Does God need Welfare?
Even so, remembering the sheen on Peredelkino’s black gooseberries,
Rodney King’s name sounds Russian, rodnik for ground-spring.
As for me who crapped up my own homeland
How lay the blame on anybody else?
Rain & ashes seal my lips.
The two superpowers left the Little Man supersufferings.
Us—blown to hell. You—immolate yourselves in flame?
Any light at the end of the tunnel of pain?
Translated by Allen Ginsberg and Nina Bouis
May 17, 1992
Los Angeles
Research
Research has shown that black people have inferiority complexes regarding white folks
Research has shown that Jews are exclusively concerned with financial lasciviousness
Research has shown Socialism to be a universal failure wherever practiced by secret police
Research has shown that Earth was created 4004 B.C., a Divine Bang
Research has shown that sparrows, bees, lizards, chickens, pigs & cows exhibit signs of homosexual behavior when in prison
Research has shown Southern Baptist Inerrancy Confession the most virulent form of Christian Truth
Research has shown that 90% of people going to Dentists have bad teeth
brush your teeth violently 3 times a day after meals wear away the roots
Research has shown that Hollywood makes the best films ever, the sexually degenerate