SECTION TWELVE
POETRY PAGE THREE

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COLUMN NINETY-FIVE, AUGUST 1, 2003
(Copyright 2003 The Blacklisted Journalist)

warm it up

right now
Humanity      
isn't a hot item
some will say
it's in the freezer
i'll say it's in
the refrigerator
and everyone that i know
is trying to get it
over to the stove
warm it up
not on a high flame
because we don't
want to burn
the bottom  ##

non-violent executions

for Judith Malina  

in the revolution
we will execute
only the system
with a new way
of being alive  

It won't be necessary
to kill people anymore
even the torturers
the ones who
did the dirty work
of chasing angels
will be allowed
to live and build  

for they are the dead
to be raised
and they the dead raised
will be the profoundest homage
to those they have hurt  

We will walk naked
in the world
as the sun gently
touches our cocks and cunts
humming a tune so beautiful
that the dead poets
will come in their
graves and forever
be at peace.  ##

performing

it's like taking
a magic potion
it's like rubbing
a magic lamp  

it's like falling
off a cliff
it's like flying
after you've W'oken up
from a dream  

it's like shrinking
myself into a glowworm
sliding down your throat
making all the stops
and singing all the versions
of "what is this thing called love"  

it's like blowing
myself up so big
that i shock you
and move you
with my love  

it's like when someone
in the audience tells you
"you made everyone
here tonight very happy"
and you know that's impossible  ##  

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