Poems of Madness Complete
INTRODUCTION BY ALLEN GINSBERG
RAY BREMSER and HIS POETRY
Ray Bremser born 1934 Jersey City grade schoo I armed robbery
age 19 Bordentown Reformatory six years there completed high school
8 Poems of Madness forwarded with correspondence to this A. Ginsberg
and that G.Corso in Paris. Released 1958 published in Yugen magazine
8 Don Allen New American Poetry anthology gave readings Princeton
Brown 8 Washington DC tour with fellow poets Living Theater, married
Bonnie (nee Frazer.)
Philadelphia TV pro-marijuana-legalization speech inspired
Bordentown parole investigation. After six months Trenton State Prison
(Blues for Bonnie 1960) for "getting married without permission" intervention by the late Dr. W. C. Williams and lawyers secured release.
Romance with fuzz continued, Bremser immediately re-arrested bailed
out then indicted for Jersey City armed robbery on I presume false/
111istaken identification. Poet wife 8 child fled to Mexico half-year,
abducted/ deported to Laredo Texas as fugitive, Wild Palms. Bailed out
again returned to Mexico anonymous another half-year. Rearrived in
States to publish poetry 1962 busted in NY "traces of marijuana in his
address book" charge dismissed, held on Jersey robbery wa rrant bailed
out crossed river 8 spent 3 months in can waiting. Inept lawyer unfriendly policeand jury conviction alas 3 years as of Feb. 1963 expen- ·
sive Kafkian appeal pending, so passeth over a year to now.
In Bremser poetry we have powerful curious Hoboken language,
crank-blot phrasing, rhythmic motion that moves forward in sections
to climaxes of feeling. Imagination shifts in and out of heard-about
places in space 8 time, American primitive, jai Ihouse primiti ve, 8
dramatises key ideas--personal empathy with Egypt and a Pop Art
approach to Platonic archtypes. Where is the truth in this? The truth
here is the realized expression of emotional awareness. Poesie a
rhythmic articulation of feeling, emotional physiology vocalized.
Now the piper's piped, but had no human reward in his America-thus he goes wild, piping inhumanely.
"I passed out at this point and woke again amidst rowers •••
I pretend to pure dislocation and end in the palace of a
whose bath has been drawn against logic ..• "
Also he's funny; on Funk, funky. Echoes of amphetamine echolalia -the line carried out through its last mental pip-squeak of idea-rhythm.
A mouth hopped up with unnatural dactyls, or some kind of manyfooted Greek measure.
"The zeal of gospel, elation
Wham/ Cymba I/Wham"
The later writing is very jazzy, scatting related to Monk Coltraine
Taylor Charles as wel I as meth-freak head noises. Awe of the universe
enters into the poetry which is a big pile-up of words some times into
Hart Craneish clang-lines.
"Great edible crotch full of hermitage lore
and excusable gloom I"
That takes a certain genius. But the real measure of inspiration is the
opening up of the bardic breath 8 the summoning forward of rhythmic
power from the breast for the sustained flight of Proc lamotion that
climaxes the Poems of Madness.
New York May 27, 1964
POEMS OF MADNESS
I . City Madness
I used to sit often composing the manuscript .
never denouncing and therefore not to be written
without preparation for trial.
I'd sit contemplating unobvious thoughts without poetry,
being the poet of adequate life
on broken brick steps ful I of contractions
of piles and pimply sores from the stone
and syphilis-eyed hypochondria sleep-thinking germs
and I caught my first cold fifteen histories ago
in the maggoty festering garbage-can alley
back of my mother's rear room.
I used to sit dreaming the dreams of accomplishment
marching in questionable cadences down to the foot
of the Harborside Terminal
into the emptying carrying cars of Spry and Colgate
Mullers outgoing spaghetti and infinite
counting the black-ba Iled parolees and broken-backed
spies, Italian laborers, Polacks and sweaty
old terminal boss,
whose unknotted tie and left-wide-agape collar
was motive enough to imagine the noose.
VVhen I was ten I discovered the poet and quick
circulated great novels of spy and adventure
and killer police, whose murderous face
I didn't at first grasp
until I discovered a cop humping some young
indiscernable girl in the pork.
She addressed him with delicate fits from her lips
which turned ghosty and blue and the dress tore away
and he popped with a joy every cop in New Jersey recalls.
Since then I have hated what passes as law
and the ten-year-old grew but the poet did not
and the novels fell off into idiot poems
and madness and sight of my city,
the city of squares and the city of Pharisees
all mobbed into a mass of the lewdest advertisement,
tight denim levis -- buck shoes for the silent
and cardigan jitterbug jackets with saddle stitched pockets
of rubber • • •
- I -
i've never been ready for trial.
But Caro le Fugate has!
Sweet youngest ever martyr
City killer high accomplishment -in her peaceful, pensive, elemental face
the Virgin Mary ended indecision
and elected to abide
in every sinew's whore-mastered inch
of Chari ie's sweet
and favored yards of flesh.
How did he do it to you? Whispering 'mother'?
or 'little sister'? What of your idiot's eyes?
Now it is more than Charlie's, sweet -now it is every lecherous penis
legality has -- every sensuous
prick of old righteousness! Lord, how they're prodding,
those moot prosecutors!
In love with your lips and in love with your belly's
white warmth, 0 human -- 0 animal -- heavenly
screwed little girl -- in love with your crying 's pure
succulent salt of the heart -- hot heart of the murderess -heart of the victim, whispering 'love' and whispering 'please' -and the minor-thief's heart in my own hunting skin
corresponds to your sexua I Iips of immaculate
white -1 would run my cool tongue
in your mouth, eat your tears, taste your difficult
My city envisions your breast beneath which
is the heart that addresses itself,
and the answers?
crazy -and love!
No; it', wasn 't odd
alone -into the streets
and out of my home,
so long out of sorts -was I out of my mind, too,
with the dread melancholy
stuck edgewise into my brain
and into my guts,
only man-guts, not pig-iron
but twisted and flanged
and eroded with rust?
So I had to walk
and I walked, way outward
onto the unfamiliar street
where people are not always people -And I took in my hand
in my coat and conjoined
a pistol, in case -to decide th in gs
But the dreary unfluctuables pinioned me
stiff-columned into my shoes. The trigger-taut
sinewous spindle stood me up clotheslessly still
to suffer the bearable w°hipping of fingers
over the mutable flesh -the mother less
sonofabitch ing floe -the criminal shots, were
pinned, like medals of thievery,
onto my breats;
and my waxworkings
found Icarus's pool;
and I'm here now,
change lessly dressed!
ft is sometimes the way our necessity balks
at a curve, to be tried.
To be taken in dubious custody, chained
to a chair in the precinct called lst
and a Ilowed the due processes up to the neck
of the ,fist and the shattering bludgeoning hardrubber hose of an arm's length.
question and answer and hate
for the acne-nervousness paused on the face
and the please-leave-me-alone in the watery eyes
that were blue turning black from the law's
dark insensible glare -whose brute badges of courage and bravery stare,
because Hart Crane might have had one of the heads
that wc;is cracked by the graces
of nightstick and sailor Bayonne!
Haw their foolish pomposity walks in the streets!
Af the Hoboken wharves and the West New York Hi I ls,
over Pal lisade plumage of rock and the Fort Lee
nest of the eagle -- Washington Bridge Riviera -doubtful escape on the harlotted Hudson Expressways!
One thing I found in the handcuffs was this:
Great fear of the law!
- 2 -
and a dread
of my own Jersey Cityite 's farce
gone beyond the impossible truss
of a sentence too large
to impress~ boy with its complex
I wil I sign the confession of monsterous crime - 1 will sign
I will sign
I will sign
I WILL SIGN!
2. Penal Madness
••• and I feel like Nellie Lutcher,
want to sing and fornicate in sheer
suggestion -- most/
I want to sit
on a stool, that's all -- just sit and sit
and try to dig the drags
who go by in their stocking-feet.
... deserve their pair of legs .•. to
go their nowhere ••• knees grown together, they
cannot see great stride to the gutter ••• cannot
see me satisfied ... they call me nigger
lover ••• evil •.. jazzhead
fuzzy is the dissonance
of their wrath!
out of the Hudson County Jail
I am taken while idiots laugh.
Great edible crotch full of hermitage lore
and excusable gloom I
Great predying tomb of innumerable black and
white negros, crazy and hip
and uproarious laughter-laid
pure cherry nights!
·Great basketball court of the Harlemite ref,
full of human ond brown breaking balls!
Great trolly-car terminal corridor track
And the pitiful fish
who are new to it al I are amazed I
At the womb they ca 11 Center!
Chief-Deputy squats -- or captain
fatly abides in the mother-tongue
chair at the lip -- at the sperm
that is gathered lieutenantly into the vat
where the keys to the kingdom
where the morbid machine
in the wide teeth less mouths of the little
0 Mammon, invisible indian-chief of the sta l
in successive uncomfort called rooms -Pall Mall is your highest ascension!
Converse of the world!
Its recto extreme !
At arm's-length's impotent reach - do not touch!
do not come!
do not learn!
only read me in beautiful tears,
for then you will have what is vision,
and tremble your whole and unreasonable
•.• and of love?
I would rather be cool
and consider your ends
and then, maybe -unleash myself full
of immediate needs -too much stock-market sex -too much pressure today!
Do you guess how I want
and desire your great explosion of not?
Do you know for how many
I have waited
and waited, immobile?
Insane with the brawn
of oppression, the bane
of a thousand and radical hardons'.
lusty with dream!
Do you think I might finally
end in the wakening
wet of your thighs?
The stocky ineloquent odor
profuse in its fish-fetid
I would rather be cool
and consider your tough
and your thick
and your tonnage
Nights in the slop-bucket house
of the morbid and boredom
- 5 -
get the better and sent me out hunting
Love! You are always precise
and penultimate tears . Yet, the horror
converts to the physical digging
and the girl and the somehow
illegal love of illusory black listless night,
praise to your coolness and noninterference
beatitude lighting my brain fever dark
with a harmony flash
in the otherwise idiot's music!.
You are delicate, yet, on unbreakable diamond
of Solomon's. taciturn mine!
Only poetry now, in a quick whisp, going!
No heroes nor marvel-magicians nor witches
nor conjurers -- brothers nor beautiful laggards
stuffing iunanimous hearst stripped clear of the lead
and insensitive refuge -The creation of NATURE
projected by poetic eyes,
whose condition of soft
and affection for life
has been characterized as the sickness
today ••. but
nor the rot
nor the stunted unscrupulous growth •••
but the wild
and the breath
and the rage
and the cure ...
Tolstoy's simple father,
Life's detestic led i II us ion!
And I should disappoint the street
A man hos lack of right who locks what bolls
And I will not forget
the pigeons on the roof
the trolly-trom prolonging
in the brain commerciol 's loud
and laying silly shitter,
on the ground . Cathetered
and slain by mother labor,
we're afraid/ to fa 11 indisinfected into soppy people's
beleaguered twice around the skin
and clutched within another fit
of crying hunger -- ho, the bloody
pig let's flesh to suck -we 're made to suck,
instead, the prick of penalty!
See how it lathers quick
from out the slick and un-united unionsuit
Our pre late-master's
I will be sure
to find my head the rack
whereon some crown
of brutolest forgiveness
comes to rest its unauthentic weight
and final family.
Poems of the Holy Madness
at best •..
too little never knowing nerve.
I will be mode immediately to cry --
bravado, thrust projectori Ily
I will be told to die,
to disappear and infiltrate some for
beyond the everlasting box-car rooms three
as marijuana finities and blipblip dreams
of the searchable scanning radar • • • gleeps
See the capon magpie?
of a disposition prone to mirror-wising glares
over the erstwh i Ie
Water them down with tears, 0 that I ever
plundered my own abyssmal fjorded
For I have strung up streamers
and inhaled a wild unpatriotic rebel attitude
of position out of air where life begins/
confetti and cascades of violent pure-bred hair!
Water them down with tears out of the stark
maniac Gammontown-girl 's personal dark,
for I am the lowdown Communipow Avenue nightingale,
bleary with drunken nigger police
who induce me prevailing out of the square
into Bayonne on improbable busses
of laudable sexual intercourse
So let me lay it to you gently, Mr. Gone!
your heaps of slick and apathetic succor
transvestite my human animal until I walk
with knuckles on the ground ,
my Einstein essence
by prehistoric gobs of eyed typography!
The world and papers never
meant to furnish monk ind substitute for ghostwriting
on the cavern's corner's vague museum walls!
It is a little
let us say, too much, man,
the redest bloody Cadillacs caught
. cryptic on the air, luring another
~- netherman with California Ruge le
" and too much the rigid enterprising
If it is difficult to dig my plum-diversions,
apple-on-astick-preventions -by banana-pie intoxicated start in the sky
on snow ensmutted wings the Addage Ancients
pilfered for me the night
they stole the light
centennial from on high -rather forget
and too your own damn silly mark.
Shit up a rope, for all I care,
but watch how
sometimes, when the horizontal dreams
of a little life gone hither come to bear
dualities of weight over the head.
How it proves ideally the spot
from which to murder.
Yet, it resists your suicide,
having the sense of valuelessness
drawn from the self same object in your coat.
If you will murder is an act/ and he who acts
cannot deprive himself of ultimation,
I mean, finally kill the world
and step in the compost-heap another Adam
blue-balled hot for God's provisionary hond !
Didn't I once anticipate your plan?
Out of the candour;
an eaglet's fitty first flight
off of the bower on mountains -cawing
MacBeth's sedate and accurate great soli loquay,
life is a tale/ full of shit -- And even the ta le
alone is too much, man, too much!
Too much the cross
that fries its nigger-toast south of a drawn
out isolation line whereon approaches two hoo il" 9 magnificent isomorphic white
and poor enpaupered isomorphic black,
the weight of gangs and people r
sure-shot ex-marine police force
coming down with pride in prejudice
to break the Jewish high empiracies
and beat the butcher, steal his pork
to poison perhaps odd but living hearts
whose darkness revea Is the urge of
Too much the roving flood -- the moraine c
left by the high and Adirondack ice -- uns l
Catskill peekskill's league for Prevention
of Bogus Pinball Machines!
story of Jersey I stereotyped/
New York! Freaks of Nature!
Giant and the dwarf with the blown-up head !
East and West and North and South
old hallelujah Alabammy mammy jubilee,
prophetic anti-nigger-senile-anti-lumbee.._ - · _
Praise to my country!
Let me bequeath it a 11
to another blazer -- Charles Starkweather!
He should know how to handle the infini te
putrid condoms somebody's mother manufactures -He would annul your vast vagina into a finer
better business bureau box of the mange I
.,st ling legend-like lances of Thomas
hdchets of Matthew
and bladed Bartholomew,
's sword and Matthias 's battle-axe!
Come the i
Come the multiple roarings!
haloing hoards of white justice!
Come rain on the lecherous forty -e ig
-- come murder
and blinding swift light!
e virgins whose ripsaw vaginas gnaw gnats for the
But I'm cutting corners.
Better if I were to level with you here.
I'm unafraid, and finally, proficient
Iike a traitor;
You will investigate me finally, along with my mother
who furnished the change fo r lunch
knowing my reputation as a thief!
and I love the visionary journey out of jail
that spectral escape that screws the progressive Governpaent and I prefer to run around with homosexual cats,
in drag, then suck on sol low
tinfoi I tits of brittle broads born in
make me a myth, whose roustabout's prevarication!
I am a nonbeliever, so -- neither your giftless
painted goddesses of Cash, nor Tax,
nor Si Iver Certificate!
More than in theory
I love a luke warm jew whose
thick thirsty lips barely slobber
with kosher Mogan David.
Give me your black
and miserable hides and I will untar them.
And I dig jazz, and hipsters, and would prevail
over the tiny nurses in the park, minding your children,
beautiful long with ten minutes sex ua I pleasure,
letting your little Mary and Joey watch, drooling
to turn you, Mother America, into the onetime great
Shoshone magnanimous squaw to the decadent indian post,
' lost god of the plains whose whistling arrows still echo
the hungering lust over the mountains
and into be Ilicose brawn of the white
Tomorrow their buffalo-dead will arise
and embrace the barely breathing religion,
no longer questioning who's to be right,
only digging the sky and the clouds -bringing acres of the FREE for the negro -bring the jews their ELOHIM repast!
they're revving their millioning motors!
War is dee lared !
Not a bomb!
Nor a gun!
The Apache uprising is here
- 10 -
s the weight that will crush every judgement, a n d ' a ll go
long into the soft spoken kisses of poets
sad skinny banners
that had long ago/ easily
ved so much more than
Aqu:irious carried plague 8 wate r
Germans hepatitus 8 the crud
from over Europe,
carried the westerlies of queen Hat Shepsut
911uatting the dismal width of the delta of Nile .. •
we couldn't find Memphis knowing it always was there,
riioroughly withered, neither did we reach the proper time,
period that is,
the gears propel I, repel I repeal the gloom of those tombs
we visited there.
shot out of age less temporary america
into the middle Nile 8 upper regions, lower valley of Kings,
IOfTlewhere at Thebes
cataracts make their oracular presence known •.•
Amun destroy us!
shepherd annul your sheep standing on banks
impossible ever to locate river of hell,
difficult into the Ni le the Gods do wreck us
earthbound wed to the book of t he dead
listening 8 witching
- 11 -
bitching the scent of an offering up to the scarab,
deathly idolon I do not assimilate prayer
8 do scepters of horror instead.
we had come up the river of East on the morning of soon
or mJ;b.e yesterday, conducting a great apothogem with us,
expe 1t1on t~ Rome put off .for the sake of the mummy
whose wrappings are there in the power that lies upon heads
which have fallen, heads which are found 8 to fall
to fa II is the only glory of Egypt
glory of Nefertiti wallowing there in the wine .
my d:mdelions gleam
wondering why the safari,
I hover the sky hover the clover blowing across the waste .• ,
sphynx who are sentient yet, watching the Nile
8 the fending of mad pterodactyls never in egypt
whistle my why
knowing the strength that is there
we ascended the hill, 6lst street 8 hired a cab
for the graces of gods 8 the journey continued over the plains
of the park.
we found the museum then.
ignored the bright armor
entered the valley of pottery, mosque of the silly carpenter
borrowed amongst the pages of edible books ascribed up to Hathor
that diligent smuggler, baker of bread for the poor
8 immediately eating •..
saw Anubis 8 terror
saw motion of witchery there,
saw bone of the fi Ithy embolmer
saw seven league boots on the feet of those birds
more soarey than Bela Lugosi
it was always the mythical bird,
the Phoenix or Griffin,
Basilisk burning with eyes,
murdering mere epileptical end of the man.
: those birds, those finite horrors 1
.': birds with eagle claws 8 lion's breast,
8 lacking a soul
birds who do dealings with eyes
8 do evil with wings.
always the myth of the bird,
1f we sometime could fly . . .
if we woke in the morning after next
finding wings or the power of flight by ourselves
all the birdkind of mankind would take second place for a change.
take your museums, marijuana!!!
stick them in high 8 go haywire ••.
onward into the trussed up reason of myth,
we entered the hal I of the barges 8 yachting did go •..
- 12 -
I passed out at this point 8 awoke again amidst ~
rowing powerfully up the rush of the Nile.
it was midday 8 oceans were far in the back,
the sand of the banks grew red
8 the girl in the center smiled to my wakening head.
I wanted to know this woman
-- most biblical, this -- the wanting of knowledge
I would like this of all the known women
in every known time, to possess the full snatch of the Ea
8 then maybe the visions of ultimate visual cunt
would congeal into wombus etc.
this difficult phrase to suppose.
this difficult trick, too,
fuck 'em all 8 continue the rest of antiquity all by myself.
this is ambition, 0, dribbling jack le of art
0, fender of years in my heart's place resume of fear •••
I pretend into pure dislocation 8 end in the palace of a great quee
whose bath has been drawn against logic,
for rending me there.
the funeral dirges begin.
table of maybe marble.
simmering flames, burning,
wrappings flopped in a great heap,
the vat of the end waiting, bubbling off in a comer,
doctor arose 8 examined the sound of my blood bleeding behind my
I am given the leave to die
in the cellar of ancient embalmers,
given the honor of dying
8 suddenly thrown on the slab which is table,
slit at the throat 8 bleeded carefully
damn, these Egyptians are deft 8 efficient I
no blotching of blood, I wonder what they do -no spilling of fluid rushing into the veins,
but the blood which is hidden,
the blood which is mine, mine
what do they do what do they do! ! !
later, forgetting the snores of all those masses of people,
forgetting the smell of formaldehyde only unknown,
I am entering pyramid slowly,
getting orisons offered 8 food for my travels in space,
wife to envelop my scepter with hubris of womb
8 vagina utters the last gasping asking of mercy
who faltered 8 fell to the idiot idea we needs have of o
thus history kills me
history murders 8 offers no other appeal
in its court of museum of wax and museum of horror
the courts of our drags
our tapestery flowing down mighty
rocks of injustice, these courts in these middle dynas: ' c:
- 13 -
only sentence not listen,
but murder 8 bury 8 sift out the pebble of sod
so that I might not hove even the slightest of tools,
only Hothor, ommun, Hot Shepout -- 8 Ibis
wickers about his wings gleefully over my mummified stopping of speed.
we return to museum,
I suffer the vision of all former life,
0 listen you blunt cogs of humanity, reason this out for yourselves .••
carnation, col ling
reducing down to
the fifth only
sound of the
through with it!
I hove only to walk 8 forget to return.
my psychologist stutters,
a lone in the world,
I embronzen the book of the dead in my fantastic library,
peel off the dusty umbilical cord of the dead
8 paper my rooms with the odor of mould
8 of tomb.
this droning of eon begging my voice to give note
only recons too slow,
that I creep into a Icoves
a woman to screw 8 begin it again,"
8 again, 8 again,
oh, Hot Shepout, Morgano, Elizabeth,
harpies of there
8 here everywhere, harpies of lewd lock of clothing.
I rupture myse If for your favor,
your hover of bower of snatch
for the ending of Iife
am out of museum 8 go,
"ckly frightened to home 8 boll wife
defiance of the gods,
ore watching the course of my mankind, history does repeat,
it comes 8 comes on again 8 again
tomorrow, tomorrow we visit King ArthlK's
imag ine •... • • • · • •
lues for bonnie - take 1, january-1960
"these blues broke out in a gallery,
on 9th street • . •"
"9th avenue ••• 43rd street."
•hell -- its hell 's kitchen again."
bonnie in woshington
waiting for march and
bringing glad tidings.
"of 9th avenue?"
on via flomina piazza
masticating a ruddy pizza
off to Riker a feedery •.•
(i dig feed -- soup.)
If I dont cop no queens,
screw no queens,
I might never cop
so goes my disarmament plans
down the drain
with a mummy or
boll with a bundle of flesh or of cloth
or of boll's very essence,
- 14 -
(if i dont get straight quick
the fuzz II bust me sure as
i reek o reefer.
Rio Rita -- that s as far as i m
••. i would eat the food
instead, oney this stud
along side me pounces eyeball
gawks as if to say,
"high as rat-shit."
- 15 -
and 2 fried eggs in my plate
the same thing.
how do you eat
and which one first?
peter out. slip away, do a go -politely tip my hat and split is
oney thing -- likewise.
i m sure.
this is what you might call
a hubbalubba drum, hellofa biff-bam hallabaloo
(fontainebleu in the
"you gotta drink yo drink
and get yo that thunk •.• "
the girl wanneda get waid,
not weighed . "
i know a chick collects em,
oney the greatest the ..•
herry suckton. yiddish eactor.
out of work 4 months ..•
agent cal Is, "herry?"
••• and so on, or
ie: daddy moody, baptist.
little abraham, age 5, gettin baptized
in the muddx mississippi.
daddy moody get the Iii boy
by the belt ••. sticks him in
the river -- pulls him out and
looks brimstone and fire on his face •.•
"does ye believe?"
"i believes ••. "
and so on til I
whut -- and I BELIEVES YO
- 16 -
TRYIN TA DROWN ME •.•
·hyar hyar yok, i said,
and split that scene also -some idea when i m stoned
people trying to make me
laugh myself dead ••. this
works with my wife also, too •..•
instance: a game
oney played high and by and
phenomenanonymous ••• and
phenomena I Ius ion
to a common phenominator,
james fenomenimore cooper.
or to, now want
to, explain what is
(the first funk we're familiar with
is our own, provided for us by glands
thru the olfactory nerves
enveloped by that precipitous lump
of the face ca Iled proboscus.)
otherwise, what is funk?
"we 11 now, dad," the
goatee on the wall sd, "it
rhymes w-Monk." •.• the
goatee was, of course, abreviated. weird Boo I
anyway, funk is when
thelonious monk peeps
above the bamboo shades
to see the piano setting there,
bald and bold •.. monk looks at it,
while the bass run and the drummer
bugs him with the cymbal ••. 6 days sleepless •..
monk looks •.. perfectly zonked and
- 17 -
\loafing on the stoo I ••• he looks
and the bass and drummer meet
like flys making it on the mid-air,
attracting, (at least,) the ears
of monk, who lifts his hands
and lets them fol I on the keys in
commentary; with whut's funk.
I JONES: on funk
the intellectual explains for an hour
the osymmetrical underlying connotations
and multimillion minor philosophical edicts and
principles involved in Sartre a considerable
system of phenomenological ontoloQy to
the big colored-feller, high on pot
on the nod, listening -- who con
siders .. • thinks a bit,
those wicke r11•. .•• . .
radiator soup .
(2 Iines, canceled .• _
and that a funk .
whop whop whop
whop •. . do yo
or funk is easily personified immemoria lly in
see Charlie Haydn,
rarely Milles and
never the Boston
Pops •.. hardly
funk is exemplified in speech.
ie: let s eat.
let s split. (when you re bugged.)
lets cop. (when you re just high enuf to want more.)
: let s score . (when you re not high.)
•. lets boll (when you re not bugged.)
KEROUAC: on funk.
"you j us don know. "
"what don i know?"
"how good them bacon
and them egg~ is , .•
that kind of camping
i dont object to
unless its kept within reason.
• course not." i spat
and we took off, j us Iike that.
a dam near dozzen stoned
1110niacs and rode the island
on the Baltimore Thruway
80 miles per hour .. . slow.
that was the last time
- 18 -
- 19 -
we were all together in washington,
and the first •.. heralded in behind
Prokoffiev and herded out by
daughters mothers, drags and the police,
(i later returned and married bonnie
frazer, angel of God and witching
devi I to the core ••. )
to hell with Zarathustra,
cecil taylor says -- skiddy-WHAM,
going thelonious a better.
"knocked me out."
the marijuana eater,
blind, crawling on the floor,
catching fibrous vibrations and
accoustics off the wood and
thinking hes slick, digging
my wife a full-lotus, sitting
in ponties -- thighs like you
never seen them before, or ever
will see since •••
and the test.
which i goofed.
enuf to be declared insane,
which was the former declaration
of the previous examination of
my psyche ••. my soul. and all i did
was violate parole.)
category is dangerous:)
makes winter, now, its own necessity.
the cold smoke flowing, 0, Mother 0
LEERI, blowing the last of your
fragments away •••
so, saved and safe.
alone. beyond the reach
of a 11 your nutknees all your silly paranerts and
bings, -hookah-hacks and key-ups,
me-ups, teacup-ups and Cheops
up and down, hiccups,
the ultimate ground •..
in the blues •..
connieving blue and
my tongue hangs happily in
Mesopotamian schemes and creams and bloopers.
(blues for bloopers?)
GOD GAVE ME TO BONNIE
THATS COOL ENUF FOR ME .•.
(today in the stricture of a
multiphasic personality meter,
i ve been dee la red a
radical against the fol lowing
cataracts and calesthentics,
miscellaneous reading material
(bobylonian texts, creeds,
mail-list-mail and partisan ideals.)
simplicities and babies and
conditions, personality and
Freud -- including most of Vienna.
- 20 -
blues for bloomers.
blues for Bryn Mowr, blues for Vassar,
blues for Randolph Macon (hung in
no-nigger Lynchburg), blues for Douglas,
Radcliff, barnyard Barnard blues,
for the Sweet-Briar blues •••
for dues -- for bras -- for bal Is,
for drawers, for the ha I ls
of montezuema, 0,
bluer blues for all the girls
in Bennington, the blues for news,
for booze -- the cool bruise
blues for Brenda-Lyn,
blues for two ..•
for what 8
who makes bonnie blue?
(who used to peyote-paint,
write dirty stories and flirt
without knowing it, serve
Irving with her soul, go
lightly, issue me often
more than is
- 21 -
no heed of warning, live
in love af me, for love of
me, who used to love the world
and hardly felt the black-and
makes bonnie blue?
John Coletrane .
Jac k Kerouac.
Irv ing Rosenthal,
Ray Bremse r . . •
new jersey state parole board .
judson county jail.
the "lady" too!
vanishing of rivers, hopeless!
pure love, the blues them selves,
the rose .. .
fits and choirs and means and
smokeways, hoverfears, the calendar,
the compas and the clock •..
ol empty bed,
(bonnie, i feels low
as a ol nigger; all
black and blue.)
whoooo iee .••
time is the measure
in one direction,
hundred days, ninety days, eighty days •.•
do not let them ever put you down,
t he dream s the thing.
betray what is adult but
not your chi Id hood • • . stand fast
0, Cant .. .
0, Kerouac . . .
0, rose ...
- 22 -
i believe in the beauty of d1wL
i believe in the dream and so does
and the dream knows me
and the rose in my heart
tall, and well watered
with bonnie s blue tears.
survived. wh ic is good.
a miracle. an oct ol Goll.
a law so inviolable i
tremble to pluc k her,
tremble to touch
the petals • ..
tho the clanger
condemnat iorl !
shivers pierce the ears •..
(WHAT IS ALL THIS STUFF)
what stuff ••• ?
AND Bl NG AND Key-ups
HOVER-FEAR AND ROSENTHAL •••
• •. i retreat to my island of •
where no orie can hurt a nd
oney me and bonnie's there,
surrounded by the beautiful
abstracture of our friends •• .
including my old bum-friends in their chains and cuffs a nd
cosmic consciousness! the sad blue rose •..
where mother 0 LEER!
beats her head against the
unencouraging door - and dont get in •••
and me and bonnie loaf a II day in
endless day and never sleep but
turn on one conclusive never
and stay that way
indulging the mind's mad
other-things • . . like wondering
if mathmatics were ever
really more important than
astro-nautico-so-ho - a riff
on a raft • ..
- 23 -
THE AIRFORCE HAS SHOT~ MONKEY INTO SPACE.
of what use, now,
is poetry? i m serious •••
i see beyond my melancholy hills
make out those
dumb birds shaking scarey wings
• . • the co Id soot of it ••• the nape •••
the wet, raw, clamy nape of
everything, dying ••.
only dry wind.
lonely ocean .•. spawns of fragmentary
suicides in the sea-scum • • .
i am happy every time i see a condum
lapping the side - that
green and relentless puking wall
a long a II piers.
(••. but God didnt say "raft" yet .
and the lemming still flips
ever so many years • • • he
and goes over the
white c Iiffs of dover in the sun Iight •.•
•.. ) why the lemming never gets some
that's the question
we should ponder on and chase •..
but we II jus put a
into space and
thank the navy for
the use of the sea
ever so often •..
0, loonies ••.
0, funnies •..
0, lilliput •••
(heaven put it down!)
a vision at dawn of all this.
and love .•• the
casement, feints and
whips a bat out across
my iron chambers,
love ..• coerced,
and cornered, stricken •..
lopes its kattycorner fixtures
at my raging aegis.
love, (~ou slay me,
love, i think), you
careless coot, you
- 24 -
rapt inflection •.. i
mulling over the
lost form - ah, the bat •••
my hard is down and
skinless, pipless, lifeless, love less, soft and
less prone to pry the
batty caves, a twat or
i proceed to
get high as
escape the chi II
of lonely night,
oxygen consenting •••
a love of love?
a love of law I
i loved you when
you set me free and easy could
have loved you for a month
and high, my swung life took a turn
for the better for a change
or for worse and forgot you, i
forgot your tom by halls
and corridors of cops-paws •..
forgot the split skull, 0,
mother 0 LEER!, and the whale
forgot the rebuff,
forgot the bluff and
precipice - forgot the lewd spore
forgot the baw I and
court of kangaroo,
the law s maw, the
crow a craw whose caw
was perpendicular ...
forgot the inevitable,
forgot the faggot, dragging
ass over the floor,
forgave the gnaw,
forestood the closing opened door
(that Trailways Coach with jonnie in
the 'xick - 0, jonnie-mop .•. forthwith,
- 25 -
the plaudit sport, the forecourt
of sl?w locomotion, rumble
coming - court of final
tremble ••• )
(shattering around me
but i loved you then;
my balance was returned;
my nose (and all the time you
called it sinus) cleared of
your syntactical cadavers •••
••• off your walls.
forgot the mouth,
forgot the corpse of
feeble inmate meat and
dead eyes, for,
i was thru with you , . •
GOD GAVE ME TO BONNIE
ME TO-BONNIE • • •
VULTURE • .•
all over, dark the claw, the
law, the black
of it, the white,
the dark ba 11,
is light enuf
who would see • ..
the dark is
God enuf •. .
0, love • • •
who would see ••.
0, rose ••.
give me back.
to those who
see .. •
0, the compass
and the clock ..•
0, hope and blues and
vision of parole • ..
my bonnie lies
over the ocean •.•
The Dark is enuf
to those who would see
toil of an 0,
say rose • • •
on the nature
dark skin • . .
dark death • . •
dark door •••
avoid nothing .
- 26 -
right off understand it is calibre
important and foremost in war,
the cannon the power, artillery,
logic of lords and the sabre-jet
, sense of a law, nothing else but
which renders a counter i llog ica I ••. andor . •.
demonstrates the insatiable evidences of reason most
- 27 -
that missile w-nuclear warhead is,
NEVERTHELESS, our pretty now solid reality ••. so start
there, at odds with only everything else conceivable
but death but violent killer
murder, and but
always pitiable anyway)
finity ••• our sad
not longago day • • .
sitting at arms (you see?) length (what
battles there.), i stafff iron with eyes,
glimpse that which i put there isnt you.
cannot do anything indecent. would
LOVE to, tho, to the wall. projectiles
ricochet sometimes, often come back and
ruin me temporari Ily . • .
(6 yrs in jail)
several bays and baygirl pederasts dallying
loathsome in the jon ••• those passive enough
not smiling while others are blood and batter,
they all get fuc ked , 22 calibre pistol.)
noisey and phoney, brings me my wife.
everything actually bombards the stage.
it's an air-raid - 100 tons of ancient
berthas -bonnie - explodes.)
big aeroplane eyes find rivets, the
cell (whoever, not war but
bullets breaking down to hell, no matter,
the tensile, important.
(i take up the
wearing of shades . the sequence is right
on schedule, brother, you bone-yard back on
target, rapport fluctuates everywhere, but
(it's a play, yes,
Shakespeare - pretty hip character, sd:
(also) we turn our miracles nowadays into
(to the effects of) explainable phenomena,
thus rendering everything terrible only
a mute disappointment, but rather shd
tremble due to inestimable fear of
what happens to be - BE - horror •. , )
fire .. . burgeon •.• wh iplash .•• cloyed and captured.
obscenity is, say
expecting the sensual
get sensible instead.
the imponderable big-feet
walking of (BOOM) do-good, do-right(POVI) do-tel I
- 28 -
(SLAM) and do everything simply murderous but not
touch , . • fire . .. dont TOUCH • . whiplash ..•
DONT TOUCH • •• burgeon •• . weigh down senese with sense,
(ratatat-tat - old cartoon-strip logic of BB gun
value-no) DONT YOU DARE TOUCH.
the ce 11 rounds me out.
gives me the proof of proportion
always ... deaf ears to intelligence,
specifica Ily underl ining it (not i)
for the rendering up of pure demonstration
of YES SIR, brother - emphatical
actual lock-up logic of bullshit
blowing its nose.
and all i survive,
reassemble, is this
out of that:
i am these one thousand unspeakable works
of an impious possible X-factor.
the bore and the grind and
the gauge and the barre I important,
the shock of the weapon the cross
bow spit and the shaft of primary
meaning, the she II and the fizzle, the
scream of blockbuster clustering flash of
fire and straightforward logical ends
to unnatural means in which we have done,
who all do, for what fo remost
we are in its doing ...
the wii I 8 the want 8 the way • . .
Hang ing Like a Baboon from a Tree
... thinking / the diluted
blood rush foreword/ into the
short-come head,/ hanging
over the top of my bed's ed9e,/ red
8 down / so that,/ you see,/ see
as right-side-up is/ verily,/
upside-down/ 8 everything turned thus/
otherw ise,/ wron9-side-out, interiorex,
is / right side in/ 8 thinking/
dilutes the up or down side /
in 8 out,/ perspective •../anterior hallowed
corridors/also look see:/ so,/
to react to explosion, fore lorn
for the stock-pi le
my natural time ••.
the blood gush to the brain;/
the arterial traffic/ likewise,/
the same;/ truth be consequence;/
the game!/ 8 i hung here/
my stimulant/ picture-clippings
of girls,/ 8 more or less
8 wif •. ./in scanty-clads,/
8 hot-drawn pouting lips/
which drain the blood down,/ dizzil ly
whirl my head,/ with meat of pussy/
right-side regular,/ bellybutton in/ 8
hopped/ I! up: if you must;/8 so,/ you do-/
upside-down/ the only way
to masturbate/ it's me, not necessari 1ly
you,/for who - / everything most
must./off 8 on/ soon or naked/ snatch
quick the fist/ O, down-side/ whack it
fleshed 8 sensua 1-/ later up !/i sc ream
for a ta i I 8 a tree !
dismembers me/ my body;
drop of the pin
fll abso Iute end less silence
• walking, a peg-legged monster,
u the squa 11 of corridor
lhhh; the impregnable wal I of
aothingness/ grinding the bit
a too I that erupts Iike he 11
t loose; that explodes Iike
cold-konk on the head
hich strains to listen,
of a c Iamour 8 Thunderstroke
never heard :
it's co Id as dead !
and the scream of a morta I grave/ crash,
how the silent millers rave!
vibrating gentle God's loud maddened red!
in the tombs
ETERNITY Grinding Allens Giant Beyonds
NOISE! it's grown so quiet now
that softness falls clattering
like an iron manhole-cover !
dirty teeth across a length
the absence of sound is
a millfile, \ripped down
the truncated breast
of a South Bond Lathe!
silence enters the daffy machine shop swift
' as a stolen moment is swift
.. 8 a thief of such/ much quicker! forestall
· · the incredible NOISE! 0,
my ears are stuffed with cotton!
sti 11, the lack of any wound!
death without end; how quietly the foot steps in my head
bash down my brain! SH UT UP I
the breathless hush of hacking :
anothermurderer ! buzz-saw
sears the eyes: you can see 8
eat this vacuum/ grasp this void
in hands 8 not forestal I, put down,
the sudden shock,
the severing slash of
emoted steel-like blade
- 30 -
- 31 -