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Collected Poems 1947-1997 - Ginsberg Allen - Страница 92


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92

                    in Syracuse, none of it’s going to the poor.”

               Evers’ voice the black Christmas March

                    “We want to be treated like Men, like human …”

          Mass Arrest of Campers Outside LBJ Ranch

Aquamarine lights revolving along the highway,

          night stars over L.A., exit trees,

     turquoise brilliance shining on sidestreets—

Xmas Eve 1965

A Methedrine Vision in Hollywood

Here at the atomic Crack-end of Time XX Century

History swifting past horse chariot earth wheel

So I in mid-age, finished with half desire

Tranquil in my hairy body, familiar beard face,

                    Same fingers to pen

                    as twenty years ago began

          scribbled Confession to fellow Beings

               Americans—

                         Heavenly creatures,

This universe a thing of dream

     substance naught & Keystone void

          vibrations of symmetry Yes No

          Foundation of Gold Element Atom

     all the way down to the first Wave

     making opposite Nothing a mirror

which begat a wave of Ladies marrying

waves of Gentlemen till I was born in 1926

     in Newark, New Jersey under the sign of

                         sweet Gemini—

Whole universes hived upon the first

     dumb Jerk

               that wasn’t there—The

Only One escape from the black Not Ever

was Itself,

          a extra click of Life woke

because Nothing had no hand to switch off

the Light.

                    The first dumb Jerk,

one wave, Forward! one way too many—

So forward got backward, & Sideways both

     got there simultaneous with up

          and down who got each other

Meanwhile the first Being got its non-Being

     Opposite which never had to be there before

This calamity, this accident, this Goof,

     this Imperceptible Sneak of Dimension,

          Some Move-Push tickle, Aleph or Aum

               swallowed before uttered,

               one-eyed sparkle, giant glint, any tiny fart

               or rose-whiff before roses were

                         Thought Impossible

filled every corner of Emptiness with Symmetries of

     Impossible Universe with no Idea

How Come, & Opposite Possible Kosmoses assembled Doubtless—

One makes two, symmetry’s infinite touch

makes Sound bounce, light sees

          waves reproduce oceans,

vibrations are red white & blue—

     All like a 3 dimensional TV dream

     like Science-fiction opera

          sung by inexistent Gas-brains

               in their N-dimensional bag,

     Some what a bubble, some what dewdrop

     Some what a blossom, some what lightning flash,

     Some what the old Jew in the Hospital—

          snap of dying fingers,

               “Where did it all go?”

Made of Ideas, waves, dots, hot projectors

mirror movie screens,

     Some what the Shadow cast at Radio City

               Music Hall Xmas 1939

gone, gone, utterly completely gone

to a world of Snow

     White and the Seven Dwarfs—

Made up of cartoon picture clouds, papier-mache

               Japanese lantern stage sets strung

     with moon lights, neon arc-flames,

               electric switches, thunder

reverberating from phonograph record tape machine

               Tin sheets of Zeus on

the Microphone jacked to gigantic Amplifiers, gauge

     needle jumping, red lights warning Other

Dimensions off the overloaded public address Sound

     Systems feedback thru blue void

               echoing the Real of Endless Film.

Xmas 1965

Hiway Poesy: L.A.-Albuquerque-Texas-Wichita

up up and away!

          we’re off, Thru America—

Heading East to San Berdoo

          as West did, Nathanael,

California Radio Lady’s voice

          Talking about Viet Cong—

     Oh what a beautiful morning

     Sung for us by Nelson Eddy

Two trailer trucks, Sunkist oranges / bright colored

          piled over the sides

     rolling on the road

Gray hulk of Mt. Baldy under

     white misted skies

Red Square signs unfold, Texaco Shell

          Harvey House tilted over the superhighway—

Afternoon Light

92

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