Caricamento in corso...

Explosion

The mushroom
The unfolding
 
instant of creation (fertilisation)
not an instant separate from breakfast
It all flows down & out, flowing
 
but that instant:
not fire & fusion (fission) but a moment
of jellied ice, crystal, vegetative mating
merging in cool slime splendour
a crushing of steel & glass & ice
 
(instant in a bar; glasses clash, clink, collide)
 
far-out splendour
 
heat & fire are outwards signs of a
Small dry mating
~~~
 
event in a room
event in space
a circle
Magic rite
To call up the godhead
spirits, demons
The shaman calls:
“When radio dark night…”
We are eating each other.
~~~
 
The Voice of the Serpent
dry hiss of age & steam
& leaves of gold
old books in ruined
Temples
The pages break like ash
 
I will not disturb
I will not go
 
Come, he says softly
 
an old man appears &
moves in tired dance
amid the scattered dead
gently they stir
~~~
 
I received an Aztec wall
of vision
& dissolved my room in
sweet derision
Closed my eyes, prepared to go
A gentle wind inform’d me so
And bathed my skin in ether glow
~~~
 
Drugs are a bet w/ your mind
~~~
 
The cigarette burn’d
my fingertips
& dropp’d like a log
to the rug below
My eyes took a trip
to dig the chick
Crouch’d like a cat
at the next window
My ears assembled music
out of swarming streets
but my mind rebelled
at the idiot’s laughter
The rising frightful idiot laughter
Cheering an army of
vacuum cleaners
~~~
 
Mouth fills w/taste of copper.
Chinese paper. Foreign money. Old posters.
Gyro on a string, a table.
A coin spins. The faces.
 
There is an audience to our drama.
Magic shade mask.
Like the hero of a dream, he works for us,
in our behalf.
 
How close is this to a final cut?
 
I fall. Sweet blackness.
Strange world that waits & watches.
Ancient dread of non-existence.
 
If it’s no problem, why mention it.
Everything spoken means that,
it’s opposite, & everything else.
I’m alive. I’m dying.
~~~
 
1st wild thrush of fear
 
—A phone rings
There is a knock on the door.
It’s time to go.
No.
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