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Dry Water.
Jamaica.
Dry Water The velvet fur of religion The polish of knife handle & coin The universe of organic gears or microscope mechanical embryo metal doll The night is a steel machine grinding its slow stained wheels The brain is filled w/clocks, & drills & water down drains Knife-handle, thick blood like the coin & cloth they rub & the skin they love to touch the graveyard, the tombstone, the gloomstone & runestone The sand & the moon, mating deep in the Western night waiting for the escape of one of our gang The hangman's noose is a silver sluice bait come-on man your meat is hanging on the wing of the raven man's bird, poet's soul :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh the thin rustle of weeds the voice comes from faraway inside, awaiting its birth in a cool room, on tendril bone The insane free chummy cackle of infants in a ballroom, of a family of friends around a table, laden w/feast-food soft guilty female laughter the bar-room, the men's room people assemble to establish armies & find their foe & fight :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: Clustered in watchful terror by vine-growth, the hollow bush dry cancerous wells We awoke before dawn, slipped into the canyon Noon schoolyard screamed w/play, the lunch hour ending ropes & balls slapped hard at cement sand, the female land was bright, all swelling to degree most comfortless & guarding A record noise shot out & stunned the earth. The music had been bolted w/new sound. Run, run the end of repose an anthem has churned the bad guys are winning. :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: Silver shaken in the gloom I left her Trees waste & sway forever Marble porch & sylvan frieze Down on her knees She begs the spider-king to wed her Slides into bed He turns her over There is a leather pouch that's full of silver It spills like water She left And took the coins I gave her. :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: As to the drowning man hoarse whisper invokes, on the edge, an arroyo Sangre de Christo Violence in a time of plenty There is one deaf witness on the bank, the shore leaning in finery against a ruined wall as Jesus did. Red livid lips, pale flesh withdrawn from ragged dress, pit of the past & secrets unveiled in the scarred chalk wall When, often, one is not deluged by rain, 3 drops suffice The war is over there I am neither doctor nor saint Christ or soldier Now, friends, don't look at me sadly ranting like some incomprehensible child I know by my breath of what I speak, & what I've seen needs telling. :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: Please, freeze! Danger near. A message has started its path to the heart of the brain A thin signal is on its way An arrow of hope, predicting rain A death-rod bearing pain :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: I will not come again I will not come again into the swirl The bitter wine-soaked stallion eats the seed, all labor is a lie; no vice is kindled in these loins to melt or vie w/any strong particulating smile. Leave sundry stones alive. Now that you have gone all alone the desert to explore & left me here alone the calmness of the town where a girl in black gets in a car & searches numbly for her keys; Now that you have gone or strayed away- I sit, & listen to the hiss of traffic & invoke into this burned & gutted room some ghost, some vague resemblance of a time Off-on, on and off, like one long sick electric dream. This state is confused state. Out there everyone is greedy for love. They will drain her life like warm connectors, plug into her soul From every side & melt her form for me. But I deserve this, Greatest cannibal of all. Some tired future. Let me sleep. Get on w/the disease. :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: In this dim cave we can go no further. Here money is key to smooth age. Horses, givers of guilt. Great bags of gold. I want obedience! We examine this ancient & insane theatre, obscene like luxuriant churches altars. I confess to scarves cool floors stroked curtain The actors are twice-blessed before us. This is too serious & severe. Great mystery! Timeless passion patterned in stillness. :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: Sex for you was thread which binds us even now on this pale planet. To the poet & cover-girl, photo in color, to armies that join, out on a desert, & to Samson & all his generals bound quiet now w/exotic arch-angels of dusk, in Sumarian & N. African slumbers. The bazaar is crowded as dancers thrive. Snake-wreaths & pleasures. I take you to a low cave called "Calipah". :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: Stand there listening you will hear them tiny shapes just beyond the moon Star-flys, jarts, dismal fronds stirring ape-jaws striving to make the morning mail call Cry owl. Hark to the wood-vine. Suckle-snake crawls, gnawing restive I know you. The one who left to go warning. Wishless now & sullen. Transfer deferred. Steal me a peach from the orange tree grove-keeper She fell. What are you doing w/your hand on her breast? She fell, mam. Give her to me. Yes, mam. Go tell the master what you've done. They killed him. Later. Going up the stairs handcuffed to his cell. A shot-gun blast Behind the back. (I) Untrampled footsteps Borderline dreams Occasion for sinners alive if it seems given to wander alone at the shore wanton to whisper I am no more Am as my heart beats live as I can wanton to whisper faraway sands (II) Now come into my pretty isle My weary westward wanderer Faraway is as it seems & so alone shall shelter Come along unto my sails as weary islands go prosper merry as I went I shall no more the sailor Shall I ho the sailor (III) Where were you when I needed you? Where indeed but in some sheltered Sturdy heaven; wasted, broken sadly broke & one thin thing to get us thru (IV) Urchin crawl broke spenders bleeders all brew North stained lot he was lost out on an aircraft high above long awkward brewer's shelters breed this ugly crew our poisoned jet god get us love & get us speed To get us home again love Crippled by people cut by nothing Public housing the incredible damage can be cured (V) She's my girl friend: I wouldn't tell her Name but I think you already know her Name is Square fire insect marble saffron intro demi-rag in flames it's the same game whether you call it by her real name (VI) She lives in the city under the sea Prisoner of pirates prisoner of dreams I want to be w/her want her to see The things I've created sea-shells that bleed Sensitive seeds of impossible warships Dragon-fly hovers & wavers & teases The weeds & his wings are in terrible fury Copyright: 1988 by Wilderness Publications
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Jamaica The hour of the wolf has now ended. Cocks crow. The world is built up again, struggling in darkness. The child gives in to night- Mare, while the grown Man fears his fear. I must leave this island, Struggling to be born from blackness. Fear the good deep dark American Night Blessed is Night. The flood has subsided The movie panic & the chauffeured drive Thru the suburbs Wild folks in weird dress by the side of the hiway. Some of the men wear Tunics or short skirts. The women posture on Their porches in mock- classical pose. The driver aims the car & it guides itself. Tunnels click by overhead. Love the deep green gloom of American Night. Love frightened corners, Thrill to the wood-vine. So much of it good & so much quantity. The Major's boots are where he left them. Pseudo-plantation. Period prints-white & black boxing match. A Negro Dance The principal of the school holds his nose. "A dead cow is in there. I wonder why they haven't sent someone to remove it?" A vulture streams by, & another. The white tip of his claw-like red beak looks white, like meat. Swift sad languorous shadows. The cat drinks little cat laps form a sick Turquoise swimming pool. (Insane couplings out in the night.) America, I am hook'd to your Cold white neon bosom, & suck snake-like thru the dawn, I am drawn back home your son in exile in the land of Awakening What dreams possessed you To merge in the morning? "I been in a daze" A spot, a reef, behind the nursery door, off the main bedroom- "Those are the major's." The bed looms like a white funereal butterfly barge at one end of the room., hung w/nets & sails. "We're outlaws." "What church is that?" "Church of God." white bandana, white tambourine -Walking on the Water- "In traditional style, we'll give them a good political back-siding"-(laughter) "Victimization" a frog in the road children in church drums Sun-Sun lying like death on the back seat Revival. A whore-house. Lord John & Lady Anne's. Red-blooded Blue-blooded. Queen's bosom. Is it The Princess? Golden-blood, like me, he said, folding the bill again neatly, the Queen's ear-a naked cock stuck in her ass. Ha Ha Ha Ha. You're no more innocent than a turkey vulture. A cannon. The Negro slaves & the English killed the Indians, & mixed w/the Spanish, who were soon forced out. Yes, big battles Boom. Boom. Copyright: 1988 Wilderness Publications
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