SECTION
TWELVE
POETRY PAGE THREE
sm
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
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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