what i want you to do
suddenly
i'm married to ozzy osbourne
he's drunk & on 4 pain-killers
& is forgetting my
name -- he talks to a vacuum
of a world,
a gutted-out god.
forget amerika is a land of
amerikans. we are earthlings.
the future of civilization
is utterly global.
all of us.
everyone. animals included.
ozzy smiles behind purple-tint'd
shades.
drive to hell & back
we begin ok,
on the road early in fact,
gas already in the jeep.
traffic is unusually
heavier -- strange --
but we fly under gray clouds
& sparse pelts of rain.
ann knits,
frequently adjusts our air-
conditioner.
the radio is loud.
old rock station
when there's a little
dip in the road
& we hear something
rattle.
what was THAT? i ask
dunno, ann replies,
a rock?
soon we see road
construction signs.
there's a bad moon on the rise
gets turned way way
down. we join
a traffic jam,
an endless snake
of a jam -- slow
crawl & stops.
it's miles from
the turn-off to bart's.
suddenly i see
a red engine light
on the black dash.
it's raining harder.
hazmat trucks creep
& growl beside us.
i shift lanes
so if the jeep
quits i can at least
get off the road.
we inch.
i turn the air-conditioner
off. something's over-
heating. the line of cars
& trucks looks entirely
endless, inching.
luckily the red light
of an over-heating engine
goes off.
we inch for an hour!
i try not thinking
about how i need
to piss.
finally it's a bottle-neck
to a one-lane
line & i call
the wet penndot workers
motherfuckers & assholes
& idiots -- fuckers --
assholes -- a slow one-lane
crawl while orange-vested,
hard-hatted penndot workers
lean on shovels & smile.
well, we eventually
get to bart's
place, but the jeep sounds
bad. exhaust system hole?
fuck it.
we knock, otis barks.
we guzzle a beer.
bart is drinking zima
since he drank 16 rolling
rocks last night.
mookie is into the game.
otis wants cheese &
crackers.
we don't stay long.
3rd quarter, we rise.
soon we're back on the
highway heading
north,
but i must pull
off to the side
because the rain is pouring
so hard i
can't
see. four-ways blinking.
then i chance it,
begin again,
slow, cautious,
half-blind,
but the rain lets
up.
hours later
we're home
with fast-food supper
& a 12-pack of corona
beer. next we're laughing,
naked in bed before sundown!
it's why i'm awake
so early now
after vivid dreams,
after talking low
to ann across
bedroom shadows.
get up
from our bed
& here i type,
just
like
this,
before
black tea
& lipitor & xanax.
it's sunday.
i'll need to go
check the jeep
after
the sun
rises.
sunny sunday blue sky funk
exhaust
system
seems
like.
dip
probably
bent
rust open.
we need money.
please send us
a lot of money.
jack van impe
i am,
& ann is rexella.
the bible
says be
good.
fuck it,
the end is
near.
nobody
is going
anywhere.
no rapture
inhalation
skywards
like a giant
hit of human
marijuana,
joints,
heh,
this joint here.
monica lewinsky
lamps --
lampshades of bronco-riders.
mighty mouse
cartoons on
flat-screen tvs on a wall.
a missile
silo
opens.
poet predicts end of the world
what a headline that makes
front-page new york times
all poetry foresees
apocalypse, always has
words of breath
disperse among
atoms
rolling
away
from
this
poem
blood
bombs
we
are
singular
bomb of blood
a mind
in plasma swirls
believes
it
exists
at all
or did,
suicide blood-bomb poets
a poet
a day in cities
spelling PEACE
across amerika
like
hell
instead
forget it we're infinite
heaven-
bound
we are
clueless
what might peace mean?
we legalize marijuana
& hashish world-wide.
homosexual unions
as in the future of unions
maintain population
control & worker ethics.
corporate amerika
begins sucking
rather than being sucked
& everyone is the
happier for it.
it's a cum rainbow we
shoot as a message
to the earth-watching aliens
who drool like in a
simpson's cartoon
for human
meat. peace is impossible.
war is possible.
the world is a possible place
ann has her doubts
ann has her doubts
the whole anti-bush movement
is effective past the point
of marketing at "hippies".
"it has to be more than
intellectuals & the so-
called hippies of amerika,"
she proclaims.
anti-bush.
what does it mean in this
free country when
disagreeing is punishable by
jail,
torture,
surveillence,
suspicion.
click to view movie/poem - eggs