ur utopia

UR UTOPIA

A CYBER-OPERA

BY

NICK MANCUSO

(BASED UPON HIS PSYCHOLOGUE “IN THE DOMAIN OF THE ORDINARY”)

begun in work shop in Toronto Canada, 2003 with Hrant Alianak and Dennis Patrick,(unperformed)

started in current form in Kirchhaus, Heilbronn Germany 2005

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

UTOPIA

A MULTIMEDIA THEATRICAL PRESENTATION FOR A DYING WORLD

IN 3 PARTS

PART ONE

IN THE DOMAIN OF THE ORDINARY

We are staring at a black stage in a large modern theatre in a large modern city.

Blackout

Music up.

The music is repetitive and hypnogoc in nature,trance music a cross between Phillip Glass and Balinese Monkey Chant.

Slowly the lights up, thru a multi-spectrum morning of light-but very dim. We perceive a large space, part airport, part trainstation, part megaplaza, part church. We see frozen figures in various stage of activity and dress.

In pinstripe suits a group of briecased men, about 30 are center stage legs raised in motion. Up stage left a giant glass structure like a Grand Central idon shows a spaceship on a landing about to rise up.

Stage right are makeup boths selling perfumes and makeup and staffed by stepford wives of various description and each in a frozen action.

In the upper center down stage an electronic clock with anano seconds marked is frozen and upon the beginning of the ACTION begins to whir at tremendous speed.

LOUdPEAKERS AND TV SCREENS ARE EVERYWHERE, EACH HOLDING AN IMAGE FROZEN IN SPACE.

Down stage right what looks like a tight hotel room and a bed with a man sleeping.

FROM THE BACK MOVING IN INCREASING SLOW MOTION IS AN ANGEL OF LIGHT. HE SINGS.

ANGEL OF LIGHT
(singing)

the moulds had been eatin’ at him
TWA flight dot dot dot gone down
Over the Atlantic

O.S.

UR-UTOPIA

Radio.Blackness. A voice starts up.radio.tinny.sounds of static. We recognize in the shadows-the man-in-ablack-suit,asleep on a bed.sunglasses. the man-on-the bed-Voice drones on from the radio at bed side. In shadowed darkness.

RADIO SPEAKS.

A projector located stage right starts up, showing on a small screen, in a continous loop a plane crashing onto a building-the twin towers, over and over, from the bottom, side and distant. And the collapse. A nightmare.

MODERATORS VOICE

SEPT.11-2001-ANNO DOMINI
Sounds of a jet whinning, distant whump whump whump of helicopters.

Modigliani

“As though ,the Glass was washed Clean,& the skiesclear- opened clear as gods opened hands in a jet fueI of light I couldn’t sleep at all that night- seeing it over and over in my mind like sliced butter the jet sluice- fucking the soft vaginal surface of icy glass frozen into an eternal fountain of glass and bodies of fire. Oh my beloved fire, ahura mazda! My beloved! It was fire all over these here 13 parts & all over and All over the sum-total of all the parrot=parts of these two- thee Azz-murican Landscape of lush glass and green gullied,parts I felt my guts explode and then wash-over and the fire and the awful whump whump of what not to be be oh whump/whoosh of what was it? Not to be.Ahelicoptered dance to be I could not be I was unbeing,dissolving, I, I, Osiris into 13/119, the tetrahedonal falls119-119-11-11-11-

Parts 13 teen ion the disintergative quiet distances of the eternal infinity thought on the 101 floor of life
And all that quiet loss of streets, quiet, eternal distances the loss of body I dissolve, solvent-like I solve/dissolve
Into a panfried moth of splintering lard, blackned and covered in ash I walk in hell-o-hello-hell-lights out
Helicopters of loss drone on and on and the pain is
Beyond…I, I. Osiris the American, in Atlantic ocean pan far below from the mellow Nile and the crying gulls am gleeing eeee,eeee, the end is sweet ! but my brother Seth its Sweet! Its sweet!Oh its sweet as rancidloss of life and limbits sweetitssweetoneonelwvenone one eleven is 6 is 2 times is 12 plusone is 13 parts of me lost and splintered this thins fine poweder thatgrows thru megamelikesunlight…..

As apples are fast & maginficent so am I Amman the Magnificent American am fast and fleet of mercurial foot, am magnificent, appointed & anointed, its it now
In the first part of the Century,I am Yuppie Mantransmogrified and made plain
we planned our vacation in Banff and then New Mexico, then the new Desert World of Losses
I, Osiris,& my whoring wife,Lilith, we planned our newyotrkvacationtoseethesightsmaybe the worldtradetwinevaporated topwers then Oedipus, Ulysses, called me John Smithon my cellphonesaidhewas,Howard Roarkthe Polygraph Operator, for I have seen the crystal Blue Eyes of He who who from crystal Death.shall=have-no Dominion-in the Provender,the Prop-vider, to call to all you American pill pits,pitbulls, the truth for I am the truth the way and the light and and stronger I Death am stronger than You Ameer-ica, I ,Death America named
After Amerigo the Dago am stronger than you World, after an As though an thousands Tehran billion and then the billions of suns that preyed
Upon and heads up oils the shimmering desrt diamond dust of storms
I Oedipus Headed up[ 7th avenue and and all points westward, southwards, Northwards to the eastern plains, I Ulysses, briefcase in hand ma an urban wanderer of the loss of souls travel
Southwards, to the East River to the great black Meteorite Rock of Mecca nota spot for infidelssaid are yu allright right mister yeah I’m alright wheres 7th avenue..this is 7th avenue the culturalsentre of the world ijust witnessed the greatestwork of art of alltime in the vevilsmount and horseres and those beefed-up boys ofI America will beat Yuup Tu Death I,Death the the Provider”& allthese evildoin.folks is evildoin, these the MullahadeedMullholland Dark Reimdeerered Night.explosionexplosionexplosion

Ego. Ego ego sumsum,
Am
In deo lux
Loe those 50.0000 years ago Have we forgotten so quickly? already? Can we forget so quickly whats was done to us?gemstonepinpointdeathboy with thecashrasaisedsteel aRMOOooroed ohsayc an you see bet eh dawns earlylightfor that whatever we prayed for came about? In the nights gleemingshadowed walls the trumpets Brawedinto what we cant callinto the World by God is apparently made made mad is isssss issssssssCan you see? Can yu see?the diamond dust follows me everywhere as I sleep this Nightmare

VOIX DE DEUX INTO INFINITY

MUSIC, IN GREEK, THEN EGYPTIAN. LATIN, SANSKRIT

I who am, am not, am he/ who called forth by his holy name/ the fathers/calling forth/ from stony place of the hearts broken/spring/ its own /original voice/his name/his true name/given to us for our edification/his name

Sings

“oh holy one, oh our eternal mother,we who/
are your children here do apply/for succour
in the land of suffocation/ and of plenty/
a stinging contrivance to our our empty tables
oh holy ones forgive/ us
our miscreant deed!”

(In greek, it is sung)

MUSIC

end of radio (1)

MUSIC BACHS ST JOHNS

LIGHTS UP SLOW. The mannequin man is gone.
THEother man(Modigliani) is lying dressed in a pinstripped suit on a bed over which is draped a multi-coloured cloth. A neon Globe floats before him. In the distance thru looking like a stagewindow we see a badly painted set of idylic alp-like mountain settings. We hear a spring bird chirp and underneath a menacing buzzing sound, like a dull roar. The glowing globe rises. As the lights come up the man rises and walks to the window then faces the audience and speaks.

MUSIC UP.
Cacophany of phillip-glass like noise that describes the sounds of a huge hotel lobby.

Up stage right there is a small screen stage and on it;

Scenes from The Columbia Icefields projected on small frame an ice bus clambering up a glacier.Skiers. Indians dancing.The planet as seen from space.

Modigliani rises walks up to a microphone located
Centre stage, contorts few times like a rock singer then speak in the microphone.

3.Blah Mountain

When we arrived at the world-famous Banff springs
Hotel (which holds no springs)
We were informed having requested a large suite with a mountain view
that we had been
upgraded to a narrow two cot space
next to the servants entrance route
with a lovely view of the parking lot
for some reason
on checking in the smeary faced
counterlady had no record of our
reservations for Sunday, for we had to show her
the memo and the confirmation number
and I called for the front desk manager
and had to back away when I saw him
for she smirked at me through out the encounter
a strange oily haughty smirk that I could not
understand
she keeping her eyes on me
as though I were the criminal at 600 dollars a night
and like a fool wearing tinted glasses
I smirked back and I smirk back
for no reason at all, like a fool.

the lobby crowded up with masses
of blue tourists lining up and lining up
for breakfast lunch and dinner
but here on blah mountain now that the world
moves by plane by bus by planes continents drift
apart and together
the corporate ladder goes sideways, its all a mess;
horizontal drift moves together and apart towards a great divide
in a Moolrooney morning of full on foolishness….
the Japanese ARRIVE
eating instant noodles from cardboard springs &
the women always silent as porcelain
or stone, drifting moraine-like behind, carrying seed, in perfect tansu letters

there is a glacier in the lobby here think I stuck
in space but frozen blue, solid with cold
melting and moving the earth..

Modigliani sits at a small table near the window where in the distance we see a glacier.He stirs from a coffee cup.Then sips.

“Sitting at the kauffeehaus
At the Banff
Springs hotel
Which holds no springs,eating bitten
Yesterday as I was taking
The sulphurous waters
Somewhere
The wind blowing high
And furious all the
Tops of pine trees
Laden with black cones
…
The lift we arrived on, late!
After the passing from the plains

At stony reservation
We were placed
Next to the boiler room
The clerk john
Trying to tell the chipmunk
Voiced homelier telling us we’d
Been upgraded to the Pit and for an
Hour or two we, searching for
A reasonable room
For some reason,thought

(Oh I would be ransomed now
I think, from her)

Finding a Sweet Attic somewhere
Perhaps
Walking all day away, somewhere
Having to write here
And there hiding (from her)
In the
breakfast room ,smoking cigarettes

After prunes
redriver cereal eggs
Toast and Übutter jam
Grapefruit yogurt miso
Tea cottage cheese peaches
Watermelon
yesterday the floating spinnersing

Floaters coming
And going the first
Words we spoke here in this vacuumed machine
Searching for something
Searching for
The first rays that would open the crown
and connect me
to these tourists consuming juice toast coffee the Japanese
couples sitting silently young the men smoking the women demure
sneeze rays material dee grree dssss

if we could only try to connect all at once to
the musak
being, the first words, spoken
the first words spoken being

Santa Lucia,

playing on the speakers
Nell mare limpido splendido the thee them from the
godfather yogurt missions i gotta see
this exercise of the first order eyes blurring thee
best fish I got some extra fish here you
want to mix the fish and the eggs, you can
do it &
yawning stretches the eyes of the middle aged
spinsters staring always at an
angle of sixty degrees away…

Sinatra sings no nicer witch than you do
while the trumpets blare

And the dance is on everything dissolves, yes
you killed the flower but not the root I thought
the hotellier repeating, repeating verse and scripture, to himself over and over119111911199991999919999
repeating from the book, verse and chapter and stroking back her long
red hair for she was beatiiful
,for 500 bucks she said “I will reveal what no other can do”
and for 10,000 among the first, to see, the final
dance and symphony, to tell you true
tell you true-no nicer witch than you, then said no more of what she was. than what she was
,conwoman, whore, slut,sophiticate she was conman
here on blah mountain,psychic!seer!, idiot!
Flirted with him in front of me!
cuckold! Fool, mon semblable..mon amour!
Mon frere perdu!

MANNEQUIN MAN

“Would that I had seen lent over and said to her
Would that I had the spoken truth!”

Modigliani stares outwards towards the figure. Did he hear righ t?

When we arrived at the world-famous Banff Sprin gs
Hotel which holds no Springs
\ we were informed having requested a Suite

with a Mountain View that we had been
upgraded to the Pit, for some reason
I cant remember why…

To a narrow two cotted space, a Closet
next to the servants entrance route
with a lovely view of the parking lot
on checking in the Smarmy Faced
Counterlady had no record of our
reservations for Sunday, for we had
to show her
the memo and the
confirmation number as we didn’t exist

and she called for the front desk manager
and I had to back away when I saw him

& she smirked at me thru out the Encounter
a strange oily haughty smirk that I could not
understand
she keeping her eyes on me
and I on her

as tho i were a criminal at 600 dollars a night
and like a cuckolded Fool wearing tinted glasses
i smirked back and i smirked back
for no reason at all, like a cuckolded fool

(he smirks)

the lobby then crowded in with masses
of Blue Tourists lining up and lining up
for breakfast lunch and dinner
but here on blah blah mountain now that the whole world
moves by plane by bus by planes
continental drifts
apart and together
the corporate ladder goes sideways,it’s all
a mess; a world mess, this touristification
of all things, of the planet

I tell her, but she looks bored seeing only
piles of rock where I see Art, seeing Junk where I
see History, moving history,she looks bored
and I insist on asking her if shes alright
are you alright? All you all right/
I ask…Are you?
I’m told men and women see things differently.
Men and women see things differently
I’m told this on
horizons that drift towards a great Divide
Nothing can save what cant be saved!
She tells me.

in a Mulrooney Morning of full on foolishnesseman-on-the bed-,me/giv in a blue sky full of wonders and surprises
what is it you want?I ask
Nothing- She replies
what do you want to do? I ask heren to when
the Japanese suddenly arrive
what is you you wantu I whisper thru tinted
glasses-at root?s
eating instant noodles from cardboard springs
AT ROOT! AT ROOT! WHAT IS IT YOU WANT?
these JAPANESE,know everything,seem to know
understand everything,photo-graph everything everything
that there is to understand

the women always silent as porcelain
or stone, drifting moraine -behind, carrying seed
in perfect tansu letters, in a sym-metry of ai-kido
grace, the man chanting in unison
Fordo! Fordo! Fordo!

& there is a glacier in the lobby, thinks I
here there& everywhere-a glacier we
are stuck to it, like gum to a tennis shoe on
\a hot pavement summer’s day,dentured
in space but frozen blue solid with cold
melting and moving the earth, stuck.
Fordo! Fordo! Fordo!

Mannequin man has re-appeared.

“upset for hours with an encounter
with human evil, slimed by that her
and that awful smirk, what was she smirking
at anyway?

What-was she…
at was she smirking at her own banal
smirking at her own barrel ? what was she
smirking at?

“oh its a great spot to bring our visitors over
from England “they said
,the white water rafting was the best
we loved it sooo
clean and neat and the food was
faaaantastaric…travelling in groups japapenese english
german korean american canadian dish masses to the
c olumbia ice fields we travelled
and stood where we stood like petrified

colourful monkeys up on this 1000foot iced bean
higher thaN THE EIFFEL TOWERRRR our guide says
higher than most tall buildings, all ice and frozen stiff.
Tells us she is us and I think
a great spot for a breakup,

she has amigraine now and walks
on perfect tiny feet her sweet gentle soul
listening for the cracks that
signal animals elk or goat or
“today we saw a real live bear”
like a sweetsong child
and will not listen
“today I saw I bear. Today o saw a deer.”

now eating salads
& candy bars
a perfect diet for the road
and pissing me royally as i wend off this
diabetic flu which is not a flu at all

we came for the people..for parents and grandparents
she said
oh by the way the tour guides says “these two
are engaged
and we had a soap opera about it the ice
buses with giant tactile wheels
clambering up and down the blu-rivulated
glacier till later we hear the bang and thunder of
a small avalanche “only two houses worth” says the guide
a big
one is the size of two giant apartment buildings!

my smoking has started to bother her again
it always does at a certain point in our travels
as the distances become longer and the fear
grows wi th each passing day away and by
anger swell to full sails the blast of it
chipped and weakened by the sweet sickness

(o the mountain scenery was perfect julia!
just perfect and loverly and perfect all perfect
just the best vacation spot on earth!)

(he winces and re-covers)

(we)
fuckfighting among the firs,among the wings
of the firs and the noise of the rainrapids distanced
out, a cartographers delight from this,
the very centre of the known world,
for sending parallellograms
of splayed light out from the fingertips in
hard black-etched lines of fright

the evening hard cool light of eating oysters
and swilling red wineblah mountain where i sit
on top the world

i crunch ancient seabottom beneath my boots,
fossilized,ancient, prehistoric bugs

i listen alert as only mammals are alert,fear-ridden
spring-scented,alivewanting her
Watching her.

Watching her.

(what the corporate mess presents
is governed emptiness of thought, is nastiness
of expression what can it hold?
what will the nations see?
oh

Oh Canada!Our Home and Native Land!

If a man is a worker proud worker- of his hands
holding up the world with his back
all-wooing with sweat to win his daily bread
and is
unlike the thievery that abounds

suburbs and boxes and sealed windows
abound, airplanes and trains and cars
baound
crooked mess o ëf lies abounds
and I’ll get you mac as well

if a man is a proud worker of his hands…
the deceivers and weavers of the spin
(there is a need)

above all to swaddle the soul until it
yowls in its pain unable to free its hands
a voice only that is locked in the throat
in that awful smirk of condescension
unless of course you give it up and i
should why should man live unfree within a box?
I said to her
Why should we live in unfree?

In the confines of limitless freedom.there shines here on
black blah mountain away from the sins of the
citified world done,& report to god to anyone who
is willing to listen
not only to
the blare of the set and the radio reports
not only only to the whizzing freeways above
which the sphynxed mountains stands suppose you alone
in a blue haloed light….

THE DOMAIN OF THE ORDINARY

(flash card, lights up-man on stage in rainbow light)

On A Streetcorner He shouts,dressed in Rags, by his side a shopping cart full of junk.

The Moulds had bin eaten at him!
T.W.A. flight dot dot dot gone down over the
Atlantic,exploded in mid-air brought
down by friendly fire, he said a military oops
a mistake not brought yet to our public attention
the public was too busy going busy- mad
Horse Sneeze County was too busy at that century mark
amidst all the endless centuries wrapping themselves
into a twisted Gordian knot

In this Ordinary, Life, was no longer
ordinary no big surprising bugaloo
deal, lifeand death dogdeal-doo,
his friend the Mad Directory had told him to
buy a toshiba blah blah for this his writing style
download the Vvatican why dont you he cried out!
but the Moulds prevented that
they had gotten to his brain
the filters no longer worked, that kept
the sugar in, osomosis-control of flying
bits paper and airplane parts and bits
of citizens,watches, briefcases, computers,
registration papers and duty free
were flying out to sea.

HE RUMMAGES THRU THE STUFF AND FINDS
A MODEL OF A MOULD-UNIT, LIT UP.

In this ordinary domain of life
(a drunk had yelled at him once, from across the
street-and made him weep with consternation)
bummed some money from me and disappeared

into the mid-town traffic down-of the street
, the updown trafficratered tailored sleep of the street
the downtown traffic, the sirens & the bloopers of the cops
and the hawkers from
the shimmering-dull-eyed
deep, that confused me even more,
in this city by the
street.the cops did nothing.

The pedestrians
( each one was quite mad from these
pesky moulds}
fall like a constant winking snow, an
inflammation of the addled brain, each one
on a tear to get somewhere, but where?

Where? Where?

(anti-biotics, anti-histamines, anti-inflammatories
anti-pilloroes, anti-cellular structured they know better
than yu mother
nature, you old hag of all of you,dancers of
black flame, blood-gutterered snipers &,
eaters of strong barbed wire of all yu
ever did was bring me down,)

burnt at the\
chemical stake,)

the cab driver goes honk
honk honk into the blackest night,did
yu ever see a night full saw
full of such angels?

HE DRINKS FROM A LARGE BOTTLE

with burning wings, sprouting thin
drome-like strings filaments from the high
above the vacant stars, mouldular planets
evil influences cascading down to the
running gutter filled with leaves &twigs
prophylactics,milk-tablets, herbs, hats,real
live golden fish with three blue eyes
and things yu never saw before on the
molecular level

and the cab drivers screeches to
a stop to avoid
a wacko coming down the hill at 100kms
perhous in a leg controlled thingamijig that breaks his
downward flight and rather than be grateful
breaks out out in
a fight withthe driver a scream-match fest
of this, his ,space age byc-icicle-guy
built for one, screaming invectives screaming
at HIS his guy because of this
lunatic bicyclist was barreling down the street and almost
broadsides himself flat as a pancake
against the side of
the cab,

(HE PAUSES)

Now these things would’nt happen
with such stunning regularity if people would
just pay
attention to life in the city
in a ordinary way
and i’m wandering what
i’m doing here in this Vancouver, Canada sitting
in this cab,in this city of a
dominion frying at the edges of life……
as opposed
to say, Moscow,California USSR or Montecito,U.S.A. where singing octogenerian millionnaires…
(HE FORGETS WHAT HE IS SAYING)
beat each other up at cash register machines regularly or Delphi for that matter, at the mouth of the
temple of the dawn of the river Tigris of the Novus Ordo Seculorim
or the golden isles of the northern sea where there are found soggy shoelaaces &
where the giant fish resides, by the sea by the sea
by the foggy foggy sea.

(A FOG HORN IS HEARD)
HE LIES ON THE PAVEMENT, THE DRINK IS STARTING TO DO ITS WORK.HE REMOVES ONE SHOE.

Getting out of this cab I think to myself now that,
Now,correct me if I’m wrong, beggin yr pardon, it was ronald reagen who quoted
of all the people in the universe it was he
that to
govern a large country as tho yu would
fry a small fish was an under- taking, quoting the old chinese philosopher perfectly with that howdy doody smile,Govern a LARGE country as tho YOU would fry A small fish….correct me if I’m wrong
and he sure got the frying part down
but not the carefullly part
, delicately part, with
tremendous sincerity part and attention to detail
part when he said mommy its time to trickle

time to blame everyone
and the devil take the hindmost
ami I my brothers keeper?am I my brothers keeper?
And if not me, then who?
And if not you , then who?
And if am not for you then who am I?
And if I am not for me then
WHAT am I ?

&these are questions I ask, i ask –as I float
like the giant black ithyicarus sturgeon
high atop the bay apt over looking
the Pentagon Blue Bay of Vancouver and the distant grand planets
of the millenial
twin peaked ridges, in the deepest blue moulds
Of ripening flesh.
& how now as Dr. Bongo sits in space
recounting the nature of how. this his natural life
how nothing bonds to us better than he
&drinking gallons of
vitamin c’s like coolaid,that we are b y our very nature dualists of the
electro-molecular,constant-dynamo flow
of fish fries by the empty dog=barking beach
on a omnidirectional,ever-recurring,synergistic,thallasic
life form-mould-like he says he says,and here theres a bunch of us
like grapes on the vine he says,ever-regenenerative
dymaxion migrant space pickers ever to return again
and again

when the tide picks me up and leaves, yes the
planet in a giant spore mould floating in
boiling space, a giant mould….

what is this I ask?Mould I mean? it grows on corpses,does it not
on dead and dying things does it not?
Mould I mean
Do we not grow mouldy from the very start to the very finish
And if they do find worms laying eggs in us, in life
(that they might become life-in death)
ion spite of the spray and the ddt-tranked cells
these malathionic multitudes of moron-encrusted
newspaper articles that act like yesterday
was invented just today and we
were all just born just for them, if as I say they
do find Mould…

NEWSCOMENTATOR COMES FROM A
BROKEN RADIO IN THE SHOPPING CART

And now the fucking news….
(that we have become history)
,just this second, for them
stroking our useless wankers into oblivion,

death beaten down & granfulated smoked-out
&obfuscated by the media darlings we are
fished into tiny pellets and spread to
the masses, strange toxic fumes
i’m a mould I finally admitted to myself
and now the news

(GIANT BLOWUPS OF MOULDS AS SEEN ON AN
ELECTRON MICROSCOPE PEEPER THE STAGE)

( O we in the Canyoned walk must Sing
the fruitless walk calling forth for we were
Born to sing &die,Born to sing and die and
to wake up once and for all and not to
bye the Gidgeoned Dance see the
\Truth of it once and for all and
stop the nonesense.we’re all one
there is no thou no you only
one me i that i exists and includes
Oh we in the canyoned walk may sing
all that is or ever will be
and hold forth the exctatic dance clear
the air for once we see,vide with
purest sight of truth?)

I am mould,I say

RADIO STOPS

I sing of arms and the mould Said I to myself an
unicellular ornithallasic life-form, first primitive life set
out on the journey from spore to penis
and we’ll all rot in our graves,convulse
in our death shroud,drown in our beds
poisoned by the greed here
where the girls all dance together
and the sea is the colour of liver &
from algea to liver from ameba to heart-spouting
fountain of geyered life, this the whale of a spout,this
the dance for life twittering
,I’m a mould, I’m a mould,I’m a mould it’s a fact here in (I sing)
its an architectonic city
here within this body
I’m a mould, I’m a mould (I sing)
(where the sea is the colour of liver, & the girls
all dance together)
by the sea by the sea by the beeutiful

& sea
these are one
one of the twelve navels of
the earth like the 12 apostles
i cant see anymore barely
to read the papers or is it the
i have lost all interest in the
world as i undertand it now
a papers boys route this
search for exctasy ex-stasis
out of body to leave it behind and lost

HE PUTS THE PAPERS OVER HIM

SECOND PART

LIGHTS OUT ON THE FROZEN IMAGE OF THE BODY OF THE TRAMP,SLOW FADE

LIGHTS UP.
HE IS SEATED CROSSLEGGED IN RAINBOW CLOTHES,THE FOOL.CIGAR IN HAND.

2.(mine own worst enemy)

Fax oh muse the delivered package of thought
loosen my stiffening joints oh vishnu, the preserver\
staverudra and siva/kali for yet awhile
fax the boiling blood from blue COLLAPSED
coldness
and yet let yellow reign IN the unchecked passions
destroy us and protect us from winter whimpering teardrops of melonic ice

ARLECHINO-LIKE HE STANDS DRESSED IN PATCHWORK COLOURS

the corporate world,is incorporeal &deceitful
its fill-full of men in ignorant disguise
that are ape and pig and slimy fish
one day
i sat in a room full of such types
and I did not recognize their coming forth
agreed with their decisions
thought them friends when they enemies were
gave them keys to unlock the treasure store
and they pillaged me with ransom and with greed
filled their coffers to the skies tomb city
of the yawning madness and fear
hummed an aloneness
never heard before

you win some yu lose some
this is their motto for they scour the skies
for jets of light fill their taskets with gold
trinkets junkpiles,and pour venom on this earth
you win some you lose some, this is their motto
their trademark, copywritted throught the universe
while we sit and wait for the approaching end
grey-faced larvae,saclike vedic, harbribgers
of things to come neither the healing medicine
or the poisonous stance, the childs cry is not heard
and the race grows weary with its toil.
It is mute, dog madness.
science-man, hypocrite!mon semblable! mon ami!\

my toxic brain let me ask you and correct me
if i’m wrong,are yu always collecting things which might me
useful? such as a kick in the pants or a vial of urine?
is your facial expression varied?would yu use corporal punishment?
do some noises set your teeth on edge?does life seem vague
and unreal to you?are you rarely happy?
what is the shift that takes us out of it? that brings
to world to its knees begging for forgiveness
do you throw things away? or people?
let me ask yu and answer to the best of your ability
will yu work for me for free?
will yu give me your blood, your house, your poetry
my toxic brain let me ask you do yu tend to hide your feelings
and if the atom is 99% space,& nothing is solid
are you 99% empty?
was everything and everyone cardboard?
are you ordinary?have you lost your sense of the ordinary?

A.
The rabid animologist was still rabid
the numbers that grew longer,facts and figures
abounded
and those who read them
repeated
the hills were gone & the merchants of
the objects of merchandise
bottle,plastic or otherwise,can
all were double sealed so that their fingers
shook to open them a protection from the
psychos who wish to kill the world!
Oh!

B

Mercantile men knew the answers to everything
but no-one knew what anyone else was thinking
madness abounded.

And there were so many ,quiet men about
quiet men with festering thoughts
with infected thoughts & who had time
and energy to kill each other, to eat food from storage bags
and many microwaves that the polygraph operator

Shook in his boots dismayed telling me this,for if he couldnt
find the truth then who could?
if not him then who
in horse-sneeze county?

“The psychos..they beat the test -everytime”
he said
and they thought why bother with it
knowing the nature of this evil
why bother with courts and traffic tickets?
with fines and legislation
when the rents not paid
the polygraph operator told that that
There was dismay in the thick-broth air
That there was dismay in the salt-free air
Consternation abounds everywhere,wearing
rags of plenty & a lime green hat
and the psychos beat
the test everytime, they said
why bother with anything with such people
if the truth cant be found
& the lie is around? why not just
shoot them,each and every
single one?

PRESENTING THE ARGUMENT HE IS NOW
A CLOWN JUDGE WITH GLASSES

In the metabolism of the human animal
which is the rabid touch of
loving chemical on poisenous chemical’
mercurial toxicity, from lead to mercury
from the domain of pluto that which is closer to the
spinning bluest sun,one element is congealed together
to make this body,with fines and rents
and legislation not paid
the question that remains
was he a man? was he a good& true man
ragged forked wet and miserable, oh
Was he a good true man?….

this is heath man and yu can see his laboured breath
truding uphill like Sisiphus always late

for appointments ready to catch
the next plane
to where exactly we do not know
where ,to the hearts painful thrust,to Lust
to awaken all at once on a clean bed
and blink,blink,blink,the t.v. set is on

and i reached over grunting as an old man
grunts
in a grey month to switch it off.

HE TURNS THE WORLD OFF AND IS FROZEN
INTO A SMILE.

Its all a test tesla signal, outside the Seagulls
criss-cross the crisp air, pursued by cawing crows
and in the distance one solitary falcon sweeps
past the deaf&dumb falconer to
the far horizon with outstretched hands

high above
the glittering sea.

This is the pantothenic pun,word made flesh
and vice-vera,that in the beginning called forth
fromits emptiness, a beyond colour, the first colour that
of first blue and the second that of first green and the third
haysttach yellow and the fourth that of brown
and the fifth that of reddish orange,then black
and white, to return to lunar blue outside my window

at 5.a.m.outside my window
there is the rattle of the garbage cans
and the veins of the blood and heart stand
receive waves, I believe from planets strange to
this system..,weird music is heard again
& the mythic pacific lies deep and murky
an ancient whale must be going by
thinks iI
deep travels in his sleep

deep away in its travel days
away from the mystic sea

Oh i heard His music as I slept
shedding waves of sound
humming neath my pillow
the earth
lapping the cold waves

,eddies and furrows move like a sign o’ hollywood shakes
thru the blinding mind waves,a distant jet in the night,
reports earthquakes
awakens me from a hot sweat sleep from sleep to sleep

skipping like an oracular talking stone
upon a sea of mind

and i think Oh that there must be living life here
something must be going on here beneath this land
Here on this planet

Sleep hits me like a ton of Bricks
and i wink at the morning sun
whatever woke from this deep sleep
has gone to bed
in the morning sun
and i stretch my legs and prepare to run
on this wednesday of the raining
years of the millenia.

HE EXITS THE STAGE THEN POPS BACK IN.

the nine visualizations on a corpse

the real macoy

when the emperoror chien long
pointed out to his minister the many
gorgeous and beautiful boats on
the yangtze river his minister replied
“i see only two boats here,that of fame
that of money”
remove the five attachments
extirpate the five desires
sharpen the sword of discrimination
and savour the five flavours of ch’an
learn to watch the breath
observe meditation and seek knowledge
the tao of greed is not the tao
the true tao is empty-mind
but who is doing the doing?
who is watching the watcher?
who is seeing the seer?
answer.

answer.

& there was no soft underbelly
on blah mountain
only hard granite and glacier st Îillness
cracking the endless avalanche of the spring soul

(possible music refrain from horsesneeze)

i listen alert as only mammals are alert,fear-ridden
spring-scented,alive
watching her

manvantaric this place is
i suck
on a smoke at the Empress lounge in
Vancouver,its impossible for me to
record this,the cities,the places, the events,
the times & customs
i have only the present clock where you are
i am
where I am you are no
not,no, not the breed of thing
itself
neither the heart nor soul
empty faces that gaze
out towards … what?Egypt
I guess, Sumeria,Atlantis,
Delphi,Sunset Blvd.Robson
7th Ave via condotti

mists of ocean……
there are no islands……..here
and on the scabby earth
one bird
pours forth
song feast!

4.Ulysses reaches the Aeolian Isles
of The Imaginary World

here as the white frothed waves lap the
charred wood of the beating prow, and raise
the lip of the purple sea, here at longest sunset
at the
longest part of the year,heading towards the mainland
away from the isle of winds,away from the sacred
isle,the isle of the dead , the child is with me and
we watch the smouldering earth,shaking like
ragdolls for we have witnessed the death shrouded
day of reckoning carrying the bier over
the bright yellow sands our feet hot burning our
brows,feverish and the smell of death almost
warm,comforting, in our nostrils
we who travelled so far from the motherland
carrying the sacred flame,consulting to oracle
for this new him, witnessed the hazy mountains
above the waves, land of springs and wild boar
of mushroom, olive, laurel, thyme, of oak and pine
land thick with juice and knowledge beetle-led
landed on these pebbly beaches and rejoiced
far from out native land, witnessed,shook ourselves
like dogs and set about to claim
this virgin land;a new homea new hearth
claiming
a home within our hearts,
beautiful as the rest was beautiful

raised a temple on the marchy swamps
dedicating it to the aelian gods and to him-who-
carried-us-on his slippery back to deposit
us safe and sound, here, cala o..oo..oo
bria…bria..it was raining when we arrived and then the sun
like a brught young pup shook itself and rainbows
fell.it was a day la lala la la hey ho! la la la leyla hey ha!
ha! ha! ha! we shook like timber in the rainfall sunlight
sound of buzzing bee and quercotil,sound of rock and
sunroar in our ears, the ocean shore, the wave big as
elephants hey hey hey ho! ho! ho!

5.Oedipus in Smogland

the cars circle me about, they surround me in the 4
directions of lost angels, the fourth dimension of the desert
world, sweat is on my brow and i am old, enfeeble racked
with bitterness, with falling disappointments, with lack
of essential oils minerals leached by plenty, made colourless
by colour, made pain racked by pleasure,the cars dodge me
like mechanical pups, self contained units of motion
to spin me to my concrete grave, to wave me the sirens
racking sob;my beard is quite white
those who carried me here on a bier into the land of condos
who spread out my ashes remember now my rage
an old mans rage vitroilic, shaking the fallen
trees that you slaughtered, stupid little man
that yu replanted in your fearful symmetry
fired to a crisp by a light sharper than gods snap
shot,bigger than an american dream,i,oedipus in the
u.s.a. garbage man,streetcarman, no-home man,
will work for food man,shopping cart man, cart
filled with nothingness as my eyeless sight is filled
with nothingness,all-one-world foolishness man
un-man in this culmination of man kind

if i could only place
bells on time
chains of time
& have time itself and have
it up for garters
but time is a thief
for you time thief is thievery itself!
accuse neither the first man
nor the last man of anything anymore
accuse you of
nothing at all.

i am open to yr spectrum
temporarily open to
the blasted weave of sound
the awful dust
of desert wind
my face mask-like
theatrical is wet
&
i am open to this blasted weave
that rages about my feet
a shopping cart for a throne
on this bridge on olympic ave
in los angeles in this
empty places of a city

I Oedipus in Smogland
Eyeless, toothless, am less
than

a place
that leaves nothing to
the imagination
headless
birds everywhere
burning
tires in the hot santa ana
winds
and fires burning beyond the
straight- line city
far-vaunted, much-fucked

it is always hot here
and the desert winds pick
up ash and smog and blow
into eyeless sockets
racks of thought and sends
then out

into the empty places
that leave nothing

am foolish & forgotte n?
I who was
who had an old mans rage

I oedipus in smogland
Eyeless, toothless, am less
than

am i foolish and forgotten?
& have you forgotten and if you
have forgotten the howling ceremony
of intent then you to your
of your fealities
there is no loyalty to kings
there is none

I Oedipus in smogland
Eyeless, toothless, am less
than

common man in came from you
and am reduced now below you.

O Thebes! Sunwhipped city!

6.MESSAGES FROM THE HORSESNEEZE COUNTY

the polygraph operator
was tellin’ me about how he gave
the-is polygraph test to this psycho
in folsom,how the psychos
always beat the test and the others
dont cause they’ve got a conscience
see
tellin me about how
in serial relationships
this one psycho he beat the
test but he put a paper bag over
his wife head and blew her vagina
away with a 12 guage
i hear stories all the time like that,
there & here
this in horse-sneeze county

it was at the centre of the goldrush country
stayin in the two-tiered motel
next to the intersection of six freeways
in high summer, the temp at 103 degrees
wasnt it everybody smillin all the
the time waitresses at mPrimo’s callin
me stinky for some reason
hey stinky how ya doin?
hey stinky whats for lunch?
hey stinky you makin trouble again?
i dont know what kinda trouble i was
makin’ other than ordering peach pie
with vanilla and chocolate icecream

i’m either here or bein bein here
in ole horse sneeze county
and man is not what he appears to be
in horse sneeze

everybody is raisin kids on their
own, nobodys makin the rent workin
two and three jobs at a time while
the gladhanders, the pyramid schemers.
the rounders,the amtrayers,
the lawyers of the illegal
dont know where to put
investements offshore or on shore
or inside the lunbricated cunts of whores
yellowing with golden teeth besides
a golem of cowboy & guns,a dirge
the dirge that fills the rides
of the amusements parks of
horsesneeze county

i lost all my brain last night, I reckon
or at least a part of it
torn off by some force of fr πiction
my handlebar moustache and greasy
black hair my belly huge as a whale,hangin’
thought about robbin a liquor
store again but i thought of my
two year daughter and that
stopped me in my tracks dont
wanna go back to folsom
in and out for years dont wanna go
back there, 120 degrees in the summer
years &yearsits make a boy
out of a man, a father outa of
you its break your master bone
till your all alone stripped among
the strip malls of horse sneeze county

hey lord send me for a sign
i aint got more than a little
time left, i been crucified so long
long my shoes are wet

with blood

and everythings hurts and pinches me
how can a man be free

here in the bowels and entrails
of horse sneeze

county?

they took my drivers licence and my
beat up car and rutnhshe run off with sosomeone else,a frienddof mine he was,a friend of mine she run off lasttttttttttttttuesday while i was lookin for work but there aint no work
its time to get me a gun and get whats mine!
whats a man to do when he rid dıes, the curled
back trails of the horse sneeze
whats a man to do?
in the horse sneeze?

lord if yer there, if you hear
hear me here cause i’m dryer than
a dog I ‘mpanting like a snake aint no
lower thing than me, momma took
off and left me, she was a whore
and dad a travellin man
whats a boy to do in the backtrails
of the horse sneeze?

its a land for rattlers and hores
and wakin up in places not rememberin
if i killed a man the night before
theres dried blood on my hands and
the gawdawful suns glints
like a serpernts tail

whats a man to do?
i’m stronger and tougher than
you and smarter too
but whats this blood doing on my hands?
theres something in the air
on a saturday night dark,surly violent, unforgiving
unrelenting,the coltish girls
parlance in short skirts
the old bears waddle the rest
are all castrati singers

a high voiced mototcycle noisetattoed
with blood
sings of incarcration,the endless quest
for deserts, the desire for the dry, in horse
sneeze county when you snap a twig
it crackles like empty fire and the
sound echoes forever
the blood of violence is everywhere
thickens the broth,the milkshake
of fear,lust.anger,rage
in this sweet hamburger of wantless want
theres something in the air on a Saturday night
desireless desire, acolon of omfidious
ballast racked with sudden force, hurled
into the night, chucked with great
glee at several g’s of spent passion

wake up america get with the program
get serious with your mickey mouse
psycho-killer rap=sody of frank deliverance
stop the madness before the madness
eats you whole puts you between two buns
of death,cook the energy,watch the unfreeways
land itself down into wake up,its wakeup time
its all a service industry of disrepair, folsom
is calling its foghorn tendrilled sentinel, the sociopathic
yards that connect it in labrynthic wires
walls fall about the mexican lunar landscape
wake up america get with the program!
joe blow is tending his garden far too
long for anyone to care, the clowns of derision
and footless hunger prowl the barenaked
streets in full moonlit silence, atomic bombs appear
inside the cooking microwave, the teachers
lament the taught, the students rebel in jelloed
consternation language is dead,pictures rule the
day icons of iconographic nothing doing…

its all an empty rose, a rideless ride
in corporate america strange men,c.e.os of
informed business put on pyramid hats
and counts the beans that trail like
ants to the bottome,slap themselves
on the back and guffaw
line up,resteran- tuers in the
the shape of bobby kennedy cook
tortillas on
flat boilers and running pistons, fried angels
bake at microwave speed, chlorine is everywhere
fluorocarbons fill the airwith allacrity and panic
dyslexia abounds,rudimentary language
shoots out from sports arenas and informs
the public its time,what time,i wonder now if
god isnt truly mad, really a crazy bastard
that can beat any polygraph anywhere anytime
a denizen of horsesneeze county, th- mayor of time
and th bum of it,(in th heart of th city) crystal city
its first and last, is alpha
and omega citizen, an airport dweller
fishing for compliments in all
the wrong places, in a redline beeline of active
need,reactive reactors run the repositions
depositions are given at the bottom of trials
trails lead out and stop complete, the goldrush
fills th sattelite communicators, information
is online and in the air, nothing is revelead
with constant mathematical precision
and over the triginometry of need the hypotenuse
extends and extens, lines dont interesct
no dot to fry, no cook, the cook looks up and
stares bores right into my gullet is desire
to eat,is it e=mcsqed, its all bullshit,people
streaming out of cars tailgaiting hey baby
i like yr tits yr making me rock hard until
yu want to pull the bastard out thru the small
window and pummel him to a pulp
where is this fucking anger coming from america
fuck off yu fucking fuck a t shirt reads
the sick society, a lunatic asylum from ship to
stern while the polticians drone, america yr children
are fucked up period cant yu see that?the helicopters
of loss drone on and on and the pain is beyond comprehension.

in horse-snee +ze county even the waitresses
wear curly caps and have muscles a mile long
even god gets a hard on walking the streets his
back pantlegs ripped to shred pushing a shopping
cart,carltess of shop, bags of paper and
plastic emoty bottles and cans string newspaper, filthy
hands and feet everything tied up in bundles
of centuries of b&w newsapaers annoincing perdition
on the internect cult mommas and cult poppas
frozen in the shanty town mock cool of frozen
eued fear sticks, her horsesneeze wake to yr nightmare
hey fishfry county your blessings are curses
the truth is lied to, mock sentiment rules
the waves from sea to shinning sea list
lust sucks and drools never satisified and how big
a burger do you have to make, how big an oscar
do you have to hold when will the melt-down
happen in horse-sneeze?

7.OEDIPUS L.A.

Spent westward
Travelling towards the blinding sun
Chocking from the dust of foot traffic
Ox and cart, towards the closing gate
It make no difference to me oh thebes
Oh thebes sunwhipped city purple-shadowed
Filled with the smell of nectarine and loquat
Of lily of the valley and blue-eyes iris
Eyed and perfumed, I oedipus am a bl;ood flower

Sightless, eyeless beyond all loneliness
Oh thebes sun-whipped city take me away from your ivory walls
Your ivory walls, your cyprus
Cloying to the senses
Lead me towards a stony road

O SPHYNX,HOW I LOVED YOU THEN!

I WADDLED OUT ALL BATHED
IN BLOOD AND HOWLED
MY RAGE, THEN THEN I THOUGHT
I HEARD THE BEATING OF STRANGE
WINGS
IT WAS THE FIRST TIME I SAW THE STARS
AND HELD MY BABY HANDS OUT
TO EAT THEM LIKE HOT SWEETS
IT WAS I OEDIPUS,ODIOUS AMONG ALL MEN
THAT WAS LEFT TO LIVE
I HAVE ALWAYS LEFT BY NIGHT
WHO WOULD HAVE BURIED ME IN THAT
SECRET HOUR?
“WHO IS THIS FOREIGNER COME TO LIVE
AMONGST US?”
CONDEMNED ME WITH YOUR ENVIOUS EYES
A STRANGER AMONG YOU
NOW CLOSER THAN YOU KNEW
WAS I BLOOD OF YOUR BLOOD
SINEW OF YOURS TOO….

LEAD ME OH LEAD ME LOUD STONES
AWAY FROM THIS PLACE, FROM THEBES
FOR I CAN HEAR THE STIRRING OF HER WINGS
AT NIGHT
A FATHER AND A SON BROTHER
TO MYSELF, I OEDIPUS, WHO WAS A KING
NOW FALLEN FROM HIS STAY

HERE BY SORROWS FOOT,THAT I LEAVE BEHIND
MY TEARS ARE ENDLESS
I COULD BATH THE WORLD
AND MY VISION REDUCED TO ASH
A SINGLE POINT OF LIGHT
THAT CALL ME OUT

THE CIRCLE TURNS
AND RETURNS TO POINT
THE WHEEL THAT INTERLOCK
THE EVENING AIR TURN AND SPIN
BEYOND THE CITY GATES I HEAR
THE HUM OF THE ROAD
WHERE OTHER MEN SIGHLESS UPON THE
SPINNING WHEELS
MOVE THROUGH SPACE LIKE RAYS
OF LIGHT
A TIME WILL COME WHEN ALL
SUCH MEN MOUTHLESS,EYELESS
WILL NAVIGATE THE EARTH.

I GO THEBES
I OEDIPUS, THE MOUNTAINS
TO MY BACK HAVE CALLED THEIR LONGING
THE SEA AND A SWEET EMBRACE, THEIR
DESIRE
IS SENT TO HILLOCK VALLEY AND THE
STRETCHING PLAINS
AND THE EARTH RUMBLES WITH EARTH
WORMS AGAIN
CRACKED AND BLEEDING LOVE
SEEPS EVERYWHERE
AND AS I SLEEP AND WALK
I PUT FORTH SUDDEN ROOT

A SHOPPING CART FOR A THRONE
ON THIS RIDGE
ON OLYMPIC AVENUE
THE EMPTY PLACES OF THE CITY
THAT LEAVE NOTHING TO THE IMAGINATION
HEADLESS PLACES
WITH LARGE INVISIBLE
MONSTROUS BIRDS
THAT FIRES
BEYOND
IMAGININGS

ITS ALWAYS HOT
WHEN THE DESERT WINDS PICK
UP SMOGGY IN THE CRASS LIGHT
OF ZOOMING CARS
THE GLARE KNOCKS ME DOWN
AND THE DESERT WINDS
PICK UP ASH AND SMOG
AND LOW INTO MY EYELESS
SOCKETS

INTO THE EMPTY PLACES
THAT LEAVE NOTHING
I WALK
AND SPEAK:

“HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN THE HOWLING
CEREMONY
OF YOUR FEALITIES
WHERE IS LOYALTY TO KINGS?

COMMON MAN I CAME FROM YOU
AND AM REDUCED BELOW YOU

HAVE YOU FORGOTTON?
AND IF YOU HAVE FORGOTTEN
HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN YOUR
FATHER,HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN
HE
WHO IS FATHER TO US ALL?

TO ME YOU SAY,WHERE
ARE YOU FROM.WHERE ARE
YOU GOING WHO ARE YOU?

WHO ARE YOU?
MY RIPS ARE CRACKED
Y THE SHEER FORCE OF GREED
A DEADENED VOICE ANNOUNCES
ON LOUDSPEAKERS
IN A LANGUAGE I DO NOT
UNDERSTAND
I SAW!
I SEE!!

WHY SHOULD I CALL OUT TO
YOUR NAMES IN THE CHOCKING NIGHT
IT MAKES NO SENSE
WITH ANGRY PROMISE THAT I AM
IN SEARCH OF
TIRED OF THE INSECT SOFTNESS
HAVING LEFT THEBES TO COME HERE

O THEBES SUNSWEPT
CITY THAT FACED THE PURPLE
SEA,WINETRODDEN,LOOMING

MANVATARIC THIS PLACE IS
,SUNGLASSED
OEDIPUS
SWEET OEDIPUS
DRAGGING A RAGGY
FOOT A OF , OF NOTHING
WITH A POTTLE IN MY HAND
COMPETENT AND ARROGANT
FULL OF MYSELF
AND RISE
BRUSHING THE DUST AWAY
THE FILTH AND UGLINESS AWAY
I AM OEDIPUS IN SMOGLAND.
O THEBES!

BLACK OUT
LIGHTS UP

SOUNDS OF OCEAN
WATER LAPPING
A MAN DIGS A HOLE

ULYSSES THE WANDERER

here as the white frothed waves lap the
charred wood of the beating prow, and raise
the lip of the purple sea, here at longest sunset
at the
longest part of the year…..

the days of faithful wives is gone
forever
the men of winter hold up the sky
I mean
i find

the men of winter
hold the sway
among
the world

black angels gather
where i dig
this hole and

pour

libations of honeyed wine

this generation of cops and bankers
tadpoles, uninvolved
of real estate agents, of insurance salesmen
disconnnected

i will not sail

with them again
i swear it,
i pour out
clear water and white threaded
barley
into the stubborn earthen mouth & will not
listen
i am obstinate, in my pride
will not listen

will put an arrow
thru the neck
of anyone,
who resists iron will,taught me that
feather taught to skin to teach
watching the iridescent blood
flow out thru the pipe of nostrils
hear the hiss of the air &
the radiant white eyes
shoot back
& i will

pour the black blood of wooley black- eyed ewe
gazing towards the violet sea,gazing
towards Ithaca

stone-pebbly Ithaca

far and away
from this yellowed isle where the land boils
lard and honey,they murmer
and the stench of death is everywhere
they cry
ulysses! listen to us, we’re men not gods
we’re not like you
we just want to be confortable in our old age
have pension plans
and die in our sleep,lets all just go home,okay?

Why dare?

Its all movie scores and bad t.v.toxic newspapers anyway

and processed food, journeys performed
on cellophane,
skies, preprogrammedfights! Concerts! Dilemmas!

For what?
Should we die?For what is there to die?
For the Gods of Macdonalds?
what does that have to do with us?

Its all tourism now, not adventure,
Its all wrapped wrapped in bubble, in plastic,
in plastic sounds &
sealed bubbled lives
(but the blood is real,only the blood…!)

, &unemployment lines, microchips,computors find
cablelines,movies, knives, chips,lice, hand lotion
find
toothpaste & headbrushes & advertisements
find

headrests &
critical conditionings of the mind

( are destruction of the hippocampus,corrosion
of the anterior hypothalamus and not the liver
and thirst and hunger
and cold,awful cold, and strange beds forever

shootings in the face and hands,cops,hospitals, police
double sword and scabbard wounds
knicks in the nut and wallets lifted
in broad daylight
in
airplanes, bowling, aluminum boats,
lethal
street drugs cut with strychinine &
stomach aches and farts and cheap cons

hockey- sports, nonsense, nonsense,the modern
cities of the world, and for what!?
Ulysses? for what? Where is Ithica?

now
in my hands i grab the golden sail of surf,tear at
& wind-ripped sea,crack open the glass-eyed skies
steer and look towards an old sky
look towards the black moored ship and point
to the pole perplexed to the spleen
pole perplexed,towards the fish-empty sea
and taste
salt-teared relief,empty,vacuous
who am i? i ask
for what do you cry, Ulysses?

why run away from the blowing,blazing sun
sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss
spearward towards the western lands?

leaving behind mother, father, wife and child
and olive grooves,thick-footed oak

i see no eagles on the trunk of this olive tree here
see no augurs, see no perfection
anywhere

just frightened rat like men, donkey men
ape men, fish men and pig men
see
nothing

no signs, no augurs,
my eyes grown dim like Tiresias, onlyworse
i need glasses

how am i to return to Ithaca to the sweet-smelling
land, how return to the perfumed lands?

when shall I master the ways of men
of the sea ways & land ways
and find
search the earth-sorrounding seas become
a wayfinder,bone

they are
full of the venom of the long days journey returning want
to Ithaca
they are drunk, let me concentrate are these white whiskers mine?
is that me?

should i sail today to the widehipped sea?
should we sail today?
“its too late!” they shout
its too late,says the wind, the aeolian wind
too late gurgle the blood chocked hole
too late

when are we going now seamaster,when
the world is found round not found & flat
how should we get home with no instruction?
with zero construction and zero body fat?

whose whitecharged steely eye shall we use?
what power

are we leaving to Ulysses?
I Ulysses am not one of you!

they cry,weeping grown men, future shadows
gathering
(should i lead them to the river of oblivion? i hate them)
for we all want to go home someday to find
and thats all natural,all natural but
what is natural

today, tomorrow, when?
when shall we go home
Oh.

Ithica.
When? When?

Oh how shall we try
try to cry and fungificate
the earth, its dimpled sides
the vast oceans and mountains
eating and sleeping
and smoking the body electric

the brooklyn mountains and the
human hue and cry

as we move upwards towards the end
the asking price of summmons and
supeaonas and courts looking
for justice and this poor homeless
this poor black madwoman to whom
i gave carbonixed food exclaiming
with tears in her eyes freexing
from the boxer cold
oh yu do love me, yu do
love me! poor woman that
tear sprung into my throat and
i weep for the common state
ofman & woman
homeless and motherless
fatherless brotherless
sistelles childless
and if only the tears
would come, if only i could
cry for all the loss and disappointment
of her
and the waste of life and beauty
and the great stainless steel jaws
of death chewing everything up and the
the singing yellow moon high
above the world, the sad yellow
moon above this eaarth where
we spin spin spin and dance
and love and lose and hate
and fight and for what we eat
and fight for what we have
and fight for what we dont have
and shit and sleep and talk
and walk and make and
build and for what i ask that we
we move towards the spinning end
and what is the truth now in the
inforgotten turning of the year in the
unforgotten turning of the year

I sing

Sing she says.

Sing! She says that she worries about me
because the darkness is all around me and the
answer is in jesus and miracles do happen,
as if i dont i know that
what should i do now with her, dear lord, kill her?
rinse the lotfish skies to flash the gods?
Skim the oceans like a leaden fluterlink rabendogg?

how long will these fools reign
the bleeding earth?
until the earth is battered and
punchdrunked out?untill its over?

but the Earth will never end
& the greyhaired mountain will never end
no nor the lotfish skies

(i hear brooks and small waterfalls
and breath an air as fresh as mornings
small birds tweak in me
we will win in ou r small winnings
from the desert to the sea

a pyrric victory of more gold from fools
till the grey skies tumble open!

He Sings Now

give me more food to eat
give me more drink to drink
my stomack is infinite,

my mouth insatiable
venez tous dans ma gorge profonde
more cigarettes and wine
I say
venez toutes! allez!
and frowsy women who make no demands
on the body or on time..

who want nothing

for what smile or laughter
is there time to record?
Or how shall we dance it this time?

BLAH TWO

The hotel clerk who puts us up in a smarmy hole
and i collapse from fright &exhaustion
from anger & just plain
giving up
its all just fuel for a just resentment

if she has just cause to walk out on me,then she must, why thats a cause, a worthy
cause why doesn’t she just go away, its for a worthy cause isnt it
to walk out and leave me that whore
you valorous shore, mon seembelable, mon semblalble
walk out on this and let me be, but do it soon!

alone i stand a chance, alone still,said said
she is
alone, always was
\ alone there is some margin of hope here
for something
healing,mabey
getting on with this the
forbished dance.

the highway calls from blah mountain we
driv e up a trail at the granite foot a dark canyon
fancy campers and big cars are silhouetted in the
stuttering light

a lone bird calls tic tic tic
flic!
the canadian rockies splayed out before me
are like a blackrock mica feet, like giant toes
this was the land the indian walked,
&the milky way reels above
in a song fixed in space
the big dipper drips,drips
rain stars on me, on her
heh heh heh ho ho ho ho
heh heh heh heh hoho ho ho

i videotape the falls and rapids
the shutes,the pebbles,i photograph like crazy ,
the park, the trees, the campers,
the colour-filled
tourists, japanese or otherwise

“its controllable space” I think yes
life is controllable space her life
bordered on a margin, of hope
& this the sad free air

its all controllable space

we need not see
or hear or understand anything anymore
just be, for once like the the cars
ride on cushions of nothing springs head from opposite ends of the giant cities in every city of the world
burning everything that we touch
we need
not stop ever, ever stop, never meet again!

(in that look
and in that sickly sweet smile
is revealed
the fraudulent past we made
it is all the past

in that handshake of agreement
in that covenant to control and to dissipate
how can we control what
isnt ours? Wheres the covenant with
ourselves?

when we took at what wasnt ours
to start with?

(How the thievery abounds how
we found it out)
i told her i wanted to return for the primal darkness
to what we left behind among the reindeered ancestors, the horny forefathers
that we go back to preandrethal ice

peeling black onions in the snow,ventilating green light from
sprout &pine- conic smells here i
find out abouty the limits,discover the thinning air
where the noisejuicegossip of all civilizations
fades,
herefind-here the limits only the indians knew about
tnow that only the ghosts abound & knew
on blah mountain)

no one knows
not even the priests or gurus
not even the converted ones

who brings us to war and
devastation no
not the comforting fathers
and son
mothers and daughters, no
not the grandfathers who wilt and burn
to tossed mashes, no,not the aging lovers
fried together like eggs, melting into
eternity, where will the rock hard soul
go he- who- shall- take it will it where
will it dissolve to
like in sputum
rainwater
where will it go ?where where

a mud puddle and then no more in
a crust-all of snow,a single sheen pea- green shell of
needle of fragrant pine
in this place of standstill, in this place where the hear tis
broken.

blah blah words in this tower of blahbble
blah blah words
a priests of words, not a word of priests
no not a priests of followers, of sheep-shorn
sheep, of let-downers but for those..
but those who who build the worlds
when the world was yet to be
here in the legends and fables
of blah mountain.

arriving in the morning to blah mountain
the pa is panicked
papapappa panicked because we early on
for
my 11;45, now here at 11;15 she did not ask me
to confirm never asked me to confirm
but said she would contact me now but
she is flushed and trembling and guilty
no, nor not exactly guilty and I AM quizzical
tho the morning was tough as usual,
rough as usual waiting
in line behind the tourists buying chickas,&candy floss, now there is a cute
little bear with a fish in his mouth
glossy and colourful & black and
brown, I am tempted to buy it for her

but should i have called ahead sent
a fax or so to confirm sending waves
of fear thruout blah mountain?

why is it that fear runs us with time?
Why does time require, it , fear?

here on blah mountain as we wait
waiting in line after line
looking for the endless
the therapeutic trough that feeds us
the smiling hotelier, the hotel clerk, this new york
bitch, her, and him&the tourist operator, and me

and her
to remind me continuously of what
it is that
i do wrong in my life, in
judgement after judgement
i find it’s so…
ridiculous after a while
as instincts collide in the soft squelch
of panicked magic that we ride out, hollywood
irreality is everywhere now,its
, magic pan roller coasterride of reality t.v.
that says nothing I say to her before “its
better than its ever been said before!”
and mean it.

oh sweat us beneath the lash
looking for tasteless………

frui Ùt in a desert storm, i ask for yogurt
in the morning but get a virus instead
my dna is seriously disturbed

gotta do it eh, good morning good morning
to you…

but for you i get nothing
just humilition in great
big bouncy checks.

she tells me that in so many words that
mabey
i’m looking for love it seems in all the
wrong places and announces the next day that
she …………

but it’s a long wait its a long way from the canadian rockies
to new york city, or athens, or thebes, for that matter
or ephesus, rhodes, delphi, granikos, pergemamum,
here as we ride the river tigris
in the longest part of the year, to delphi tigris, ephesus, pergammon, new york

it’s a wait is a long wait, someone , from somewhere this someone from, yeah, that that fromnew york city
an ugly woman, nervous , with bad breath and with black dry hair says,whispers in my ears “its
the cultural centre of the world! You idiot ” you hear me then
cuts in front, of me
“ screw you I sayu are you breaking line? Mon semblable?! Mon hypocrite!?”says I (acting pissed)mon amour?
i ask, pissed, “no” she says screw you but that she was there
first,she gave her name to the maitre d’
, that she had been to the baths, where proust used to stand and had paid 50 bucks a pop
and said she was gonna comin’ back
so what do you want shes back
what should i do but wait? iask
She’d been to the churches
to the theatre,the museum, and had seen
all the musicals that season and more
and her husband was a doctor
a neruphrenoligical surgeon, and a veterinarian
to boot
an importanty member of the community
with his own seat in church
she’ had her pap smear done
by the very best that best that dinars could buy
& she rated.

Oh what should I do

in calls, what should I do but to wring
the neck of this here chicken in that pa pa pa
panic of irreality?Were where you that they were looking for you
Why were they were looking for you?
looking for you looking for you
where were you?that they were looking
for you, in particular
looking for you and the world gets out
that’ll she screw anybody, anytime anywhere
you are unreliable i’m told,thats it this! Its
how it works ishow it works
the world, he told me all about you,
and he was better and richer
a knossus of old, a midas, a bactrian horde, of gold
much richer about you reputation and above all else-your unreliability!
Does she hate me?She must.
Or why would she treat me this way.

we’ll call and confirm two tickets for the show
next week, what show? Why,-the show-of –the-worlds!
That show!
arent you lucky to be on in on the e ticket line on blah blah mountain?

You can call and confirm,the smarmy voiced
Hotelier had said and winked directly
At her.

let the pa pa pa panic spread
in a world of particles and waves
in numbers too hard to conceive-the genome is
now named
in world that no longer exists and a love that
never was, the universe is solved…let the panic spread for I am toast and
marmalade and jam, vitriol and spread
and how smart to you have to be
to live with your head
up a tree?

but you never know what could happen
in life
when all is said and done and
your ripped out heart is weighed
against a white feather,
yes against a feather, you don’t know

you never know what might happen
now,anything,everything is possible
everything
if the door opens and closes to ,confirm the
fear that falls,fails like yellow snow
to end
a dear by the side of the road slaughtered
by impatient speed and empty time
is to be served at breakfast time
venison for the tourist that skids
on time, here at the chalet of choice
on top of blah mountain.

THE MORNING WE LEFT UTOPIA

first thing this morning a bird
came and went, fast as a jet
ate a breakfast of fluttering butterfly
and split
as we lugged our case from the two neat rooms
of the fireplaced,cedar-lined chalet
in the wink of an eye that bird
had had breakfast, we started the car
and crunched away, breakfastless.

regardless of interest caught in mid flight
later on in calgary at night the motorcycles have started up and all the girls go vroom vroom

on the 39th floor of the international hotel
bouncing noise and car alarms off the formaldehyde
walls and floors a dry heat invades my eyes
I’mtired at 12;30 after a day

h ang my laundry out to dry
my soul wavering in the high altitude
winds wonder-winds
where the looseand sadnesss went

its just
another night at the movies with pocorn belly
and dietcoke life
my teeth get loose and
day by day trudging towards the
the end, the last day,what is this distaff
of affection as cnn drones on in the next
room noise and movement moves
smiles a crock
of indifferent airs in hotel lobbies &
screeching airports to lift the heavy
body away from this earth to eastern cities
and western states to countries ac ross
the cosmos of fry pan smells

oceans where the call is
sos sos high above the fog
we circle in light hard as diamonds
but can not land
the fog is thick as usual
as slate &
butter hard and invisible

i can not see the landing lights
accelerate, the drives the engines
hard, and nose back up
i can land, can not land
sos,sos,

i feel the body grow
ragged with time identical to this
there was a time it seems a time

of brightray hope of
the future drill
not malls and shopping and the cute
little cup in the window, i wonder
how is it became this,saccarine days
with the most to hope not to end
up homelesss on the street
dogless, toothless, horselesss, wifeless
the cry of the soul on an empty night
in an empty night far and away
from blah blah mountain

for this i pray
for warm feet and for kindness

how am i different from the mountains
of men
that have lived for eons secularis?

we rise above the plains
above the mountains
the shadow of the jet leaves
scars of darkness

what cities will be
grown beneath these
feet?

by this dark mountain in future times
generations that have come to trod?

trod have trod
the dark purple pulp of life
before me and others will come
what mountains will rise above?

And leave no doubt with aspirations towards
a hike that moves outwards
some like me behind the plexiglass
in wacky spirals and whirlpools

of history others while others
saccarine and short lived
breath a new air of new mountains, new forests, new worlds
camp neath the floating stars for instants
that we can call eternal life

float
above these clear walled canyons
of cloud

THE ENGINE OF AN AIRPLANE

larval it is, la rval and egg-like and smoooth
and black and I hold it in my hand like silk,black inchoate, smooth egg-like
beyond touching or tasting, that i will not
look for you out there where you can
disapear and be born to die
and I will not think of you again

can it be found among the willows
or the woods
at high tide or in the rush of the clouds
among the spirited pines?

mad this journey,this haj, holy but mad
as we approach endless millenium and the fires
about us begin to spark new generations
of boys and girls each with new a single dream
for a bright and shinning city on a hill

to that which can not change the world, the world is a wheel

i am told

it will only turn to no other purpose
families conceal the reason of intent

machines congeal the thought to thought
&reveal no other banner but of the high banner

from which are our origins
in the skin of sound

astra round

it is no longer enough to lie
married to the safety belt

or pretend to worship
icons of intent
to know what we do not know
& may never
perhaps never know
marriages consumes our lust
but
do not spelve the walls of thirst
we ride the tidal wave that roars abve at all
reading time beneath the boiling molecular

dance of ancient gods

,volcanoes are seen in the
distance, rising above the fog, high altitude flights
at 50,000 feet above t he see point to specks
which are whales below the giant heated heart
of earth intersect gravity is beyond knowing
& multiplies our thinking-
thinker heavier than any imagining could
heavier than a rock could think or
ever imagine,

will not seen from this height reveal the lie

conceal the truth
can it unveil its true purpose, this gargantuan stance
that holds the pole of male and female between thick thumbs?

there the
lords of emptiness&kings of void, there
where
the sleeping giant sleeps, past the children of the walll and
beyond the sons of blanked
white wide paper of confession

there where the tadpoles know more than this
and the long dead men long since
dead who
knew, and would not reveal
whole or otherwise, &who split the sides
laughing
of blah mountain.

longing for the thirst of union

i.

Upon an icing cake and wearing a diaphanous crown
of gold the mobled queen drinks tea with snow,sits
and upon her fingers a ring she made of organic semen
crystallises like small dear shells
& shines brightlystanding
at the entrance of her palace
illuminating to the world
for all of Blah Blah Mountain
she longs for the thirst of union.

what is this loss? Iask her

as we entered the valley ,black crows danced
about our heads, a whole new family sang along
giggled a whole new song,what is the vulvaic
song, the sirens that all look alike?

,we wept and waited &
staring at us while we slept,( in a hotel
in new york city-by-the-sea)
o verlooking Central Park

while we slept the bums slept too
singing in their sleep
but i could not sleep

ii.
its raining on blah mountain in clouded
dreams of turrets and greying spires there are
burnt pages from other days,manuscripts are
left to rot, seared by sun and rain
blah mountains conceals what it reveals

its bursts of light and lightening shook
by earthquakes deep within, the body shudders
and sinks deep ,someone calls out
across the valleys ford,heyyyy, birds tweak
and twirl sound, tic and fleck the bluing sky
it rains wings and huge feathers, the fog
flows out i see a man locked to rock
sorrounded on all sides by
tetrahedronal falls crucified, form buddhas form
on his walls, his flesh dissolves,chrysalis-like
yantras swirl about his name
mantras form within his throat
on blah mountainsemaphores of dust
call and echoe
and then congeal
hanging soft and limp from
forlorn falls
the cliffs edge conceals
the coming fog, then, moves on

, the night
drones on in a plane
searching to land, lost

to land half-hid by the night sky
and the swirling mist
its radar heart cries out
its sound frozen
drips the bird
ping
the antelope, the buffalo
home is a
ping name
the mountain says
here we are all here now
here we are alone
ping
are here all our deals
our sweathearted deals
here we all must suffer
hello
ping
life is process and only
process ping
that whatever it is it will will reveal
to those who climb
the slippery sides of blah mountain

new york,11.55,7th ave
and 56 th str. the big headed
cops in black iron mustaches
drink espresso in the steaming
cold, 15 below and the crowd
swells, the helicopters casting
huge lights/shadows on the
skyscrapers the canyons of new
york the expectant wait its
11,57 we walk into
a red nosed dinnner bar/club its
160 bucks just sit down the joint
is jumpin the bouncer at the front door
says hey it 160 for two just to sit
in this part of town
now is now the crowds
a million of them or more
all up and down 7th avenue
climb the balustrated buildings
the sirens go hink honk honk in
big crystal bowls of balustrated lights
and theyre hanging from the rafters
& the toilets the lamposts the sides of buildings
as b&w balloons search the black cold
skies rising higher and higher
into the chillcold nights
honks of cabs and cars
trucksoverload i saw coming
over the queensborough
a dead drunk face furst
into he pavement and he
hand not passed out he
had frozen hisself to death
the waitors from portugals
and the concierge from france
the divans from all over the world
its new years turn in america

its new years day maby at 12.001
and i think we’ll
meditate on, and read the infinite
harmony of the tertrahedronal
squaring of the circle the constant ratio of
k and the ratio of pie which
i orderered blueberry straight from blah mountain but
got cranberry and apple instead left aeolian springs
to come
to the nyc deli the world tuistles and in this city
of the marvellous cages all the beasts
of time are playiong poker ulysses sleeps and flips
burgers oedipus screws his mother next door, the steam from
the underground sewerers of the world
hiss on

its an architectonic wondersity cityhere
like one of the twelve navels of
the earth like the 12 apostles
to answer to
i cant see anymore barely
to read the papaers or is it the
i have lost all interest in the
world a i undertand it
a papers boys route of life this
search for exctasy ex-stasis
for utopia

out of my body I leave it all behind and
float like those newyorknewyears
ballooons higher and higher into
the pitch black chillcold night.
Its beautiful I think, high above the chillcold clouds
i guess it had to be this way
all the words alreaady spoken all the
events already done all the
number of the days already summed
up and completed the papradox of
the eternal recurrent present completed now
started again, repeated
this moment this very moment
seen
in the monastary moments world.
Manahattan of the soul, isle of God
bought for a few glassy beads

if only i could
cry for all the loss and disappointment
of her
and the waste of life and beauty
and the great stainless steel jaws
of death chewing everything up
and the
the singing yellow moon high
above the world,
the sad yellow
moon above this earth where
we spin spin spin and dance is on

and we love love love and lose and hate
and fight fight fight fight and for what we eat
and fight for what we have
and fight for what we lost
and shit and sleep and talk and make

we move towards

the spinning end

oh god of palaces and kings
of paupers and paperplanes
of the lands within the body
god of countries
god of endless hope and alterction
god of attrition and the fixed stance
of the inevitable altercation
god of knowlwedge and understanding
oh god of truth and god of lie
god that creates and destroys
oh god of endless enterprise

and he is everywhere
gaate gate gate
paraman gate parasan gate
buddhi swa-ha
and what is the truth now in the
forgotten turning of the year

utopia