Saturday, January 28, 2012

Hillman 1990 portrait

"Surrealism is the most powerful artistic movement in modern life 
and continues to inspire and liberate all who come into contact with it.
 I am no exception." Richard Webb

Friday, December 30, 2011

The Mescal Papers, Part 2

Strange Times in Virginia Beach:

My memories of Virginia Beach Blvd., after being dosed off at a party where a civilian was explaining to me how to read hieroglyphics out loud with a mouth full of rum, which is actually e-z if you change the shape of your face funnel, which of course changes the entire sound. The whole room was doing it! I had to split after their black cat sat in the tub and howled the whole time I was taking a crap. I kept trying to get it to change his face funnel, but no go!

Later on, I was laying face down in the middle of Virginia Beach Blvd.  trying to stare down the yellow line. I had just been chased out of The Edgar Cayce Institute Library trying to find the Tibetan Book of the Dead and ended up in a closet on the second floor... I was in the process of subduing the yellow line when an officer of the law, realizing I was a GI, hauled me in. The Navy pronounced me unfit for military duty and proceeded to give me a medical discharge under honorable conditions.

This was mitigated by the fact that they raided my rack on the ultra top secret vessel the USS Palm Beach- AGER3 (Sister to the USS Pueblo AGER2) and found all my so Kafka sketchbooks, not to mention a few other surrealist psycho discoveries, my Yusef Lateef Psychimotos album for one, and, of course my unwashed hookah. The vessel was so top secret, it did not exist; so therefore, I did not exist.
In exchange for my drawings, etc. I was given a good discharge and tossed out with the stipulation that the existence of the AGER3 would never be revealed.

Now that the Korean King is Dead and his dooofus son is in charge, the story of the capture and torture of the AGER2 crew by the North Koreans  and her perfectly nolonger trumps the undisclosed sister ship AGER3 who went to The Med to replace the other spy ship USS Liberty (shot up by the Israelis after discovering their plans to  invade Lebanon ( spies, right?) I, of course, got dumped off in Norfolk after a botched attempt to jump the fence in Gitmo to join my main Man, Fidel.

So, with the clock ticking away on my Navy career, the yellow line won, the black cat drowned when I turned the water on, and I finally explained to my USAF B-24 Liberator Bombadier Dad,  how I got out of the Navy 2 years earlier than I was supposed to.

Verdad!


Sunday, December 25, 2011

Guamanian Death Watch



I.
WHEN THEY PUT ME INTO PELVIC TRACTION
  I HAD TO LAUGH
  THE HARNESS WAS THE WRONG SIZE,
SO THE NURSES DECIDE TO TAPE IT TO ME
  WITH FOUR-INCH-WIDE DUCT TAPE
  “LET HER REEEEP!” THEY YELLED IN FILIPINO
  AS THEY DROPPED THE WEIGHTS FROM A HEIGHT OF FOUR FEET
  I WENT UP, MY UNDERWEAR WENT DOWN!
  A FOUR INCH WIDE TRACK OF HAIR WAS REMOVED FROM MY BODY
  FROM THE WAIST TO THE KNEECAPS
  AND I KNEW THIS WAS THE BEGINNING OF A WEEK OF TRULY
  COMPETENT HEALTH CARE—GUAM STYLE!

I FINALLY GOT MYSELF INTO TRACTION
SETTLED IN AND THEN
DECIDED TO MEET MY CHEAP-BED NEIGHBOR
HIS NAME WAS VALHALLA ELCHOOK
SON OF A RUSSIAN VODKA MERCHANT
A TERMINAL CASE OF LIVER FAILURE
A SEMI-COMATOSE, HUMORLESS IMMIGRANT
PLUGGED HOPELESSLY INTO ALL KINDS OF WIRES AND TUBES
WAITING FOR THE END….
I COULD NOT BELIEVE MY GOOD FORTUNE
AT BEING PUT IN THE SAME ROOM SO CLOSE TO DEATH
AND A CATHOLIC DEATH AT THAT!
WITH THE EYE OF THE MONGOOSE,
I WOULD SEE AND REPORT ALL!

II.
THE FIRST TIME I SAW YOU
I KNEW YOU WOULD NOT MAKE IT.
ALL THOSE WIDOWS WEEPING,
VOMITING BILE AND BLOOD THROUGH TUBES
THAT NO ONE KNOWS
WHERE GOES
YOU’RE NOT DEAD YET, MY FRIEND…
ONLY SLEEPING.

YOUR STOMACH LOOKS LIKE
A MAILROOM AT CHRISTMAS
YOUR SKIN THE COLOR OF THIS LEGAL PAD
WHEN YOU LOOKED AT ME
I HAD TO TURN AWAY
I COULD NOT HELP BUT SMELL
THE DEATH
IN YOUR PATHETIC GAZE.

ELCHOOK IS DYING
THERE IS A CURTAIN BETWEEN US NOW, VERY THIN
THE WALLS ARE GREASY WITH THE PALMS OF GRIEF
OF FRIENDS WHO ARE PROPPED UP WATCHING THE END
HE GURGLES FOR THE PRIEST 
AS IF HE IS ALREADY IN HELL! 

IT MAY BE THAT WATCHING A MAN DIE
IS LIKE WATCHING A SLOW LEAK IN A TIRE.
ON THE OTHER HAND,
A QUICK BLOWOUT MIGHT BE PREFERRED.
EITHER WAY, WHAT IS INSIDE
WILL SOON BE OUTSIDE
IN WHATEVER FORM NATURE MAY FAKE!

YOUR CHILDREN ARE HERE—THEY HATE YOU
YOUR WIFE IS HERE—SHE REALLY HATES YOU
SHE’S JUST BOUNCED A CHECK FOR YOUR OVER—SIZED COFFIN
WHILE THE “BOYS” TOAST YOU
THE ASSHOLE WHO RUINED HER LIFE!
SHE JERKS AT THE TUBES IN YOUR RUSSIAN SCHNOZ
“YOU O.K.?” SHE YELLS IN YOUR FACE
WITH HER FIESTA BREATH.
YOU ARE IN THE PRESENCE OF GOD
AND CANNOT COME TO THE PHONE
SHE GIVES UP AND LEAVES, DRAGGING HER BRATS BEHIND HER
THANK YA JESUS.

III.
THIS MORNING
I’M HAPPY TO REPORT THAT MY ROOMMATE HAS COME OUT OF HIS COMA
EVEN THE CURTAIN IS OPENED A LITTLE WAYS
ALTHOUGH HE CANNOT SPEAK,
HE CAN ROLL ONE EYE AROUND QUITE VIGOROUSLY
AS IF IN CODE…
I WATCH THE NURSES TRYING TO IMITATE HIM BEHIND HIS BACK
WHILE HE MAKES THOSE INCESSANT GURGLING NOISES
THAT SOUND LIKE A BATHTUB THAT IS RAPIDLY FILLING UP WITH WATER
THE FILIPINO NURSES ARE REALLY ROUGH ON THE OLD BOY!
THEY ROLL HIM OVER
THEY CHECK HIS OIL
SIPHON OUT HIS LUNGS LIKE A BUNCH OF POOL CLEANERS
LAUGHING THE WHOLE TIME!
I FEIGNED OUTRAGE WHEN THEY TURNED TO SERVICE ME!

WITH BEDPANS IN HAND
THEY APPROACHED ME LIKE VAMPIRES IN HEAT
JUST THEN, IN SWOOPED A HALL WALKER (MISSIONARY)
TO CHASE THEM OFF!
“HELLO. HELLO, HELLO EVERONE!” SHE CHIRPED
SHE RUNS TO ELCHOOK’S BED,
ACCIDENTALLY TRIPPING OVER HIS
NOSE HOSE
“HERE DEAR, LET ME HELP YOU!”
SHE SHOVES HIM ANOTHER FIVE-POUND CRUCIFIX
SMASHING HIS URINAL BAG
ON HIS PAJAMAS
“OOH, GOD’S WILL BE DONE!” SHE MUSES
“LET ME SING YOU A SONG OF LOVE.”
I’M CONSUMED WITH NAUSEA
I MIMIC HER: “YOU IS A DEAD MOTHER FUCKER YOU IS…”
SHE GENUFLECTS WILDLY IN HER STATE OF GRACE
TIPPING HIS BEDPAN TO AN EMPTYING 45 DEGREES
HER EYES GAZE IN ALMIGHTY HEPTITUDE
AT THE PLASTER PEELED CEILING
WHERE SO MANY HAVE PASSED FROM THESE TWO BEDS
“THIS COMA IS A BLESSING!” SHE ASSERTS
HER PRAYERS ARE LIKE VULGAR SONNETS TO MY EARS
I’M BEGINNING TO FEEL SORRY FOR ELCHOOK
WHICH COULD BE FATAL TO MY MISSION.
IF ALL THESE BLACK CROWS WOULD JUST LEAVE HIM IN PEACE
HE’D BE BACK ON HIS FEET IN A WEEK
HEADING FOR THE CLUB
GOOD AS EVER!


IV.
AHHHH! MY LUNCH HAS JUST BEEN DELIVERED
I DON’T RECOGNIZE ANYTHING ON THE PLATE
I’M BEGINNING TO WORRY
I DIDN’T RECOGNIZE ANYTHING ON MY BREAKFAST PLATE EITHER!
IT LOOKED LIKE A NEW WAVE NUTRITION PLATE
NOW, MR. ELCHOOK HAS GOT IT MADE
HE LIVES ON AN INTRAVENOUS DIET
OF MELTED JELLO AND EGG WHITES
I KNOW THIS IS TRUE BECAUSE EVERY TIME HE EATS,
HIS BED JIGGLES FOR ABOUT 15 MINUTES 
AND THEN HE FARTS LIKE A CAMEL GOING TO AUCTION
ALL OF THIS WHILE IN A COMA! 

ALL MY FRIENDS HAVE FORSAKEN ME
THEY ALL VISITED FOR THE FIRST TWO DAYS
BUT BECAME TOO UNERVED AFTER HEARING ELCHOOK’S
CONSTANT GARGLING OF HIS OWN SPUTUM, NOT TO MENTION
THE DEPRESSING ENVIRONMENT
INTO WHICH I HAD BEEN ADMITTED
THEY DID LEAVE ME THE ULTIMATE LUXURY THOUGH:
A T.V. WITH A BETA-MAX AND A BUNCH OF ARTISTICALLY
QUESTIONABLE MOVIES.
THIS MADE ME UNBEARABLY POPULAR WITH ALL THE NURSES,
ORDERLIES, DOCTORS, PRIESTS, AND THE COOK!!!
I WAS EATING ONE OF HIS U.F.O.S (UNIDENTIFIED FRIED OBJECTS)
WATCHING “APOCALYPSE NOW” ON THE BETA
ALONG WITH MY ENTOURAGE
WHEN ELCHOOK SPAZZES AND ENTERS ACCELERATED DECOMP.

“TONIGHT’S THE NIGHT”
WE ALL AGREE, EXCEPT THEY THINK I’M TALKING ABOUT A MOVIE
ON THE BETA!
I’M READY FOR THIS FINALE.


V.
THE PRIEST IS CALLED—AGAIN
HE LIVES DOWN THE HALL
MR. ELCHOOK BEGINS TO “GET IT ON” WITH DEATH
I TURN THE SOUND OFF THE BETA
I FOLD MY ARMS OVER MY CHEST
I ADOPT A POSTURE OF EXTREME SADNESS
“WHERE IN THE HELL IS THE PRIEST!”
GRIPES AN IMPATIENT FAMILY MEMBER. 
“RIGHT AGAIN” I LAUGH TO MYSELF
I CANNOT MAINTAIN!
THE NURSE IS WHISTLING THE THEME FROM “ANDY OF MAYBERRY”
AS SHE COLLECTS THE MANY COLORED BAGS
OF HUMAN WASTE FOR DISPOSAL
I SUPPOSE…

MR. ELCHOOK IS PROFUSELY SUCKING WIND NOW 
AS THE PRIEST FINALLY BREEZES IN
PUSHING THROUGH THE CROWD OF FAMILY MEMBERS
HE BUMPS MY TRACTION WEIGHTS
PUSHING ME OVER THE THRESHOLD OF PAIN
I RING FOR MORE PILLS, FIGHTING ATTENTIONITUS
I’M UPSTAGED BY A HUGE FEMALE RELATIVE OF ELCHOOK’S
HER BULGING PROFILE ON THE CURTAIN
PRAYING, PRAYING, PRAYING
TALKIN’ THAT SHIT
“DON’T DO IT, WEBB” I HEAR MYSELF SAY
AS I REACH FOR THE SOUND ON THE BETA
I’M STOPPED BY THE POPE-ISH ARRIVAL OF THE MATRIARCH
BIG MAMA ELCHOOK,
ALL 4 FEET OF HER.
THE FAMILY ZEALOTS ARE WHIPPED INTO A FRENZY BY HER
PRESENCE
SHE IS ALL WRINKLED UP AND HARD AS A GALLSTONE
HER BONY FINGERS GRIP THE CURTAIN FOR SUPPORT
SHE SLOWLY TURNS TO LOOK AT ME
LIKE A MANTIS GOES FOR A PIECE OF BACON
I WAVE AT HER SHEEPISHLY
AS IF SHE HAD CAUGHT ME MASTURBATING
I TURN THE BETA SO SHE CAN BETTER SEE
I THOUGHT ALL OLD LADIES LIKED MARLON BRANDO!
WRONG AGAIN… 

HER ARMS ARE WAVING IN THE AIR
LIKE A PISSED-OFF ARAB
TO KEEP FROM FALLING ON HER ASS,
SHE GRABS THE CURTAIN SEPARATING ME AND HER SON
EXPOSING THE UPPER TORSO OF VALHALLA!
THIS IS TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE!
AS EXPECTED, HE LOOKS AWFUL
HIS HEAD ROLLED TO THE SIDE—EYES OPEN
FACING ME
THEY ARE THE PATHETIC EYES OF A CHILD
MORTALLY UNDERNOURISHED AND TOTALLY WITHOUT HOPE
THE GREY BAGS UNDER HIS EYES ARE PUFFY TOADSTOOLS
FOR ALL HE HAS SEEN IN HIS LIFE
THE PASTY YELLOW SKIN SAGS FROM ITS OWN BULK
FROM YEARS OF DRINKING FOR THE FUTURE
WELL, HERE IT IS! WELL, HERE IT IS!

VI.
I SKETCH FURIOUSLY
LIKE A CUBIST IN A HOUSE OF MIRRORS
THE SOUNDLESS T.V. BATHES EVERYONE
IN A MACABRE COLORKINETIC HELL!
COMPETING MADLY WITH THE VOTIVES FOR PHOSPHENES.

I FEEL LIKE I AM DRAWING THE BLOATED FACE OF CHRIST HIMSELF
HE HAS DROPPED THE BLACK HEAVY CROSS,
THE GRAVEN IMAGE
UNTO HIMSELF AND THE FLOOR ONTO WHICH IT HAS CRASHED
SENDING THE ROOM INTO A SPIN
AND THE FAMILY INTO SHOCK!
THE PRIEST SAYS LAST RITES IN SUCH A HURRY,
TOO FAST FOR A PAGAN LIKE ME TO UNDESTAND
WITH THE YELLOW EGG STILL ON HIS BIB
HE FINISHES HIS LIERGAIC PROSE
AND BEGINS TO MOVE TOWARD ME!
HE IS SURE THAT I’M A CATHOLIC
AS HE MOTIONS TOWARD ELCHOOK
“THAT COULD BE YOU OVER THERE, MY SON”
HE LINGERS BY MY BED,
WAITING FOR THE TRADITIONAL
RESPONSES
OF FEAR, GUILT, AND SELF PITY, NOT FORTHCOMING
I GIVE THE CROW THE FINGER
“AND THIS COULD BE YOU, MY FRIEND!”
FLABBERGASTED, HE TEARS THE “MOVING” XEROXED PICTURE OF
MARY
AND THE BURNING-HEART ART FROM THE WALL, LEFT BY THE
PREVIOUS TENTANT.
HE RUNS FROM THE ROOM TO PRAY FOR ME
FORGETTING ELCHOOK ENTIRELY.

EVERYBODY IS PRAYING NOW
BUT, NO ONE IS SAYING
WHAT’S REALLY ON THEIR MINDS
EXCEPT FOR ELCHOOK, WHO CANNOT SPEAK.
WITH THE MUSIC OF A BEACHED WHALE 
HE COMMUNICATES IN METHADRONIC HIEROGLIPHS WITH
THE MUSES OF DEATH WHICH STREAM PAST HIS RETINAS
LIKE THE BOOZE PASSING HIS OWN LIPS
FOR ALL THOSE HAPPY YEARS.

THIS IS NOT THE FIRST TIME
THAT I HAVE WAITED FOR SOMEONE TO DIE
WHEN I WAS TWENTY YEARS OLD AND STILL ON THE ROAD
I MET A YOUNG TRAVELLER NAMED
JOHN KAFKA OR NED NIETZSCHE OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT
I HELD THIS MAN/CHILD WHILE HE
SLIPPED INTO DARKNESS
AT HIS REQUEST, I DID NOT ACCOMPANY HIM
ACROSS THE THRESHOLD
MACABRE EXISTENTIALISM HAS MORE THAN TRAINED ME
FOR THIS REENACTMENT OF QUESTIONABLE COURAGE
I COVER THESE DOUBTS WITH CHILDISH JINGLES

“THERE IS PLENTY OF AIR IN HEAVEN
WHY GASP SO HERE BELOW?
AFTER 14 ROSARIES
YOU MUST GO, NOT STAY HERE
AND RUIN THE SHOW
I LISTEN FOR YOUR WIND TO STOP
I DO NOT SPEAK YOUR LANGUAGE
ARE YOU BY CHANCE LAUGHING INSIDE
OR JUST GRINNING AT THEIR PHONY ANGUISH
YOUR FAMILY GATHERS ROUND YOU,
THEY POINT. ‘OH LOOK, HE’S SMILING’
YOU FINALLY GET TO FLUSH THIS CROWD
WHO LOVE YOU SO DIVINELY.”

VII.
THE POETIC LIMITATIONS OF MY DIVERSIONS
WERE BECOMING OBVIOUS, EVEN TO ME
AS I SLIPPED INTO A COMA OF MY OWN
I DREAM ABOUT THE GRIP OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH ON THE NECKS
OF THE POOR AND MIS-INFORMED.
I PRETEND THE POPE AND THE AYATOLLAH OF MIDDLE EAST FAME
ARE ONE AND THE SAME
400 MILLION CATHOLICS HAVE JUST BEEN ORDERED BY THE POPE 
TO CARRY AROUND PRAYER RUGS
TO BE USED FOUR TIMES EVERY DAY
EACH WOULD HAVE A BUILT-IN COMPASS WITH ROME CLEARLY
MARKED
DESIGNER RUGS WOULD BE IN!
HAUTE COUTURE WOULD FEATURE CUTE LITTLE VELOUR KNEEPADS
FOR THE TERMINALLY DEVOUT
THE ENTIRE CATHOLIC WORLD WOULD COME GRINDING TO A HALT
A RUSH HOUR IN HELL
BUMPER TO BUMPER
ASSHOLE TO BELLY BUTTON
ALL OF ONE MIND.
I WAKE UP IN A COLD SWEAT
ELCHOOK IS ONCE AGAIN NEAR DEATH
THIS TIME, A TRIBAL VOODOO MAN HAS BEEN CALLED IN
ALSO TAILORED LIKE A PRIEST. 

I TURN OFF THE T.V.
APOCALYPSE NOW WAS JUST GETTING GOOD
BUT, I WANT TO FEEL SOMETHING ABOUT THE MAN
WHO IS DYING IN THE BED NEXT TO MINE
I WANT TO FEEL METAPHYSICAL
LIKE MY DINNER OF DEAD HOSPITAL MEAT
I WANT TO DRAW SOMETHING SACRELIGIOUS
TO SHOW THE PRIEST THAT WE ARE NOT ALL ALIGNED
BEHIND HIS PLANETS,
AND THAT “NO RELIGION” ON MY I.D. BRACELET
MEANS JUST THAT!
THE BLACK CROW OF HITLERIAN FAME IS SMILING AT ME SWEETLY
HE OFFERS HIS CLAMMY HAND IN MOCK BROTHERHOOD
FOR ELCHOOK, I SUPPOSE
ONLY PRIESTS SHAKE HANDS WITH THEIR PALMS UP
WE FUMBLE LIKE GHETTO CRASHERS TO CONNECT
HE IS TRYING TO READ MY BRACELET
FOR THE DENOMINATIONAL  CLUE
TO MY OBVIOUS INTEREST IN THE CASE.
MY COVER IS ABOUT TO BE BLOWN!

I SEE A HERETIC MASSACRE ON THE HORIZON

THE ENTIRE ENTOURAGE OF ELCHOOK MOURNERS WATCH THIS
PRIEST
SPEED READ MY ARM.
IF I AM CATHOLIC, HE WILL BLESS ME
IF I AM JEWISH, HE WILL THANK ME
IF I AM MOSLEM, HE WILL FORGIVE ME
IF I AM AN ATHEIST, HE WILL TEST ME
“DO THE NOISES OF DEATH BOTHER YOU, MY SON?”
“NO FATHER, I GARGOYLE EVERY MORNING.”
IF I’M GOING TO BE CUT UP INTO KABOB,
I WANT IT TO BE DONE WITH
FULL MILITARY HONORS AND AN 18-BUN SALUTE

I SHOW MY DIME STORE TEETH
I DO MY BEST BELLA LUGOSI
HE DROPS MY HAND LIKE AN ALIEN TUMOR
THE THREE LOAVES OF BREAD RUN FROM THE ROOM
THE TWO FISHES, STINKING TO HIGH HEAVEN TURN THE SKY BLACK
AS ELCHOOK’S SOUL LEAVES WITHOUT WARNING
TEMPORARILY DISTRACTED FROM MY SECULAR DEFICIENCIES
THE CROWD RUSHES TO THE BEDSIDE
TO KISS THIS LUKE-WARM RELATIVE
AS BY CANON AND TRIBAL LAW.
THE SUN IS BEGINNING TO CREEP AROUND THE CURTAINS
I AM SAVED!
I MUST COVER MY HEAD WITH THE PILLOW TO HIDE
THIS SENSE OF HUMOUR FROM MY FACE.
FINISHED WITH MY JOURNALISTIC VACUUMING
OF THIS PATHOS PARTY OF CLOWNS, WHORES, PRIESTS,
AND YES, ARTISTS
I BREAK OPEN A FRESH BAG OF CHICHARRONES
RIVALLED ONLY BY DIP-CHIPS FOR NOISE.
I TURN UP THE BETA-MAX TO THE WAGNERIAN SOUNDRACK OF
APOCALYPSE NOW
WITH THE STACCATO SOUND OF HELICOPTER GUNSHIPS
RIPPING THE GUTS OUT OF EVERYTHING IN SIGHT,
ELCHOOK STARES AT ME.
NO ONE WILL CLOSE HIS EYES.

VIII.
I PRETEND THAT I AM AT CLUB MED, MONTE CARLO
I PULL MY CHRISTIAN DIOR SUNGLESSES DOWN OVER MY EYES
I POP THE PAIN PILLS THAT I HAVE BEEN SAVING UP
MR. ELCHOOK IS MOVED BY THE DAY SHIFT
TO WHEREVER PEOPLE IN HIS CONDITION GO
I FEEL LIKE I HAVE LOST A FRIEND TO SOME STRANGE REALITY
LIKE SOMEONE IN YOUR FOXHOLE
WHO JUST HAD THEIR HEAD TOOK OFF
THE ACTOR IN THE FILM HAS JUST
WASTED A YOUNG GIRL ON A SAMPAN
FOR ATTEMPTING TO HIDE A VIET CONG THE SIZE OF A PUPPY.
WITH THE OTHER EYE, I SEE THE FILIPINO NURSE WATCHING TOO.
I FEEL BOTH HORROR AND SHAME
FOR THIS SYSTEMATIC ABUSE OF CELLULOID
SHE FEELS IT TOO AS SHE MOVES TOWARD ME
ARMED WITH A BEDPAN AND A SHIT-EATING GRIN.
I AM SAVED BY THE INTERVENTION
OF MY DOCTOR WHO ANNOUNCES 
THAT PELIVIC TRACTION FOR ME HAS BEEN A DISMAL FAILURE
AND THAT I MAY NOW CHOOSE BETWEEN BEING INJECTED WITH
PAPAYA JUICE, A PAC-MAN TYPE FLUID
WHICH EATS EVERYTHING WITH PROTEIN IN IT 
WHICH NO ONE HAS QUITE FIGURED OUT HOW TO STOP
ONCE IT GETS STARTED.
OR GOING UNDER THE KNIFE WITH A LOCAL SURGEON
WHO WAS HIGHLY DECORATED
DURING THE JAPANESE INVASION OF GUAM
FOR LEADING A GROUP OF DRUG CRAZED
TRIBESMEN AGAINST HIGHLY FORTIFIED GUN IMPLACEMENTS WITH
MACHETES
WHO WAS COMING OUT OF RETIREMENT FOR ME.
I COULD HEAR ELCHOOK LAUGHING IN A CORNER OF THE ROOM
I COULD HEAR THE PRIEST I GAVE THE FINGER TO, HOWLING IN GLEE
THE HEINOUS RETORTS OF THE ENTIRE HOSPITAL STAFF
LEFT ME WITH A SENSE OF GLOOM THAT WOULD PROVE TO TEST
EVEN MY BENIGN SENSE OF TUMOR
.


IX.
MR. ELCHOOK IS GONE FOR GOOD

THE NURSE, ET AL HAVE LEFT WITH A FUNNY, BUT BAD TASTE IN
THEIR MOUTHS
MY LAST THREE DAYS HERE HAVE BEEN ALONE
I HAVE STILL REFUSED TO USE A BEDPAN FOR PERSONAL REASONS
MY FAITH IN IMMORTALITY IS ALL BUT GONE
I HAVE CONTRACTED BED-BUTT
AN UNKIND MIXTURE OF POISON OAK AND DIAPER RASH.
I AM RELEASED FROM THE HOSPITAL WITH ABOUT AS MUCH
DIGNITY
AS A LEPER AT A FASHION SHOW
AS I FUMBLE WITH THE CURB, THE HEARSE BEARING MR. ELCHOOK
SPEEDS BY
KICKING UP DUST AND GRAVEL
ELCHOOK, YOU COULD HAVE BEEN ANYBODY
BUT NOW YOU ARE NOBODY.
SIGN OFF WITH SMIRNOFF THIS GREAT PEASANT HEART!

NOW, WHERE’S MY FUCKING RIDE?