H e a r t   S o n s   &   H e a r t   D a u g h t e r s   of   A l l e n   G i n s b e r g

N a p a l m   H e a l t h   S p a :   R e p o r t   2 0 1 4 :   A r c h i v e s   E d i t i o n






Kerouac Noted You Weren’t Named After An Indian King


On paper you’re a grand idea

When I read history I see you are all

you claimed you’d never be

Who was Crazy Horse?

a rock group, a saloon, a casino?

Was anyone more representative of you

than he?

fighting for freedom

property rights, a way of life


$5.15 minimum wage 2006

Even when the law is clear

money decides

O wired consuming woman

you have much religion

but your spiritual humanity

your common sense

your reverence and revenue

for truth seeking, paltry

You’re ready to hook up

but the morning is another story

You are clever & boy faced in your sadism

You hypnotize the downtrodden wretched

with pipe dreams & gadgets promoting

fleshless pathetic one way

streets of unrequited desire

You publicly lament the mutilated lives, the losers

yet your demands for vigorish unrelenting

You brainwash them into defending your wealth

& privilege with their lives their health

their families

You titillate your youth with wantonness

and then deride & rehab them

You don’t even need to teach

money is Queen of aphrodisiacs

money is God’s support system, his/her mana

money’s power is more obvious than

the life force

Your love is applause or diamonds, a new dress

liposuction, a limo ride, a wad of dead



When I was a kid I thought you were the world

When I was a young man I drove my jalopies

all over you from Alaska to Texas

Frisco to the Apple

I believed in a sort of underlying benevolence

I believed anywhere I’d go I’d find friends

& work & that you would keep us

from being overly cheated & abused


Then I realized you made war on folk

who’d done nothing to you

My friends had fun without spending big money

so you jailed them

You called us traitors & cowards

when we refused to die for the cause

of the rich getting richer

You dirty the blood of babies

cancer the light from the eyes of All

You suck the bounce out of the gait

of a young woman eating humiliation

You suck the face of an old woman

till all that can be seen is regret

You narrow the brow and bend the head

in chronic supplication

You put broken wills in the small of backs

and shoot 16 penny nails into the hearts

of the immigrants you welcomed

I’ve seen the broken treaties

stinking up the sidewalks

I’ve seen the funereal countenances

of those that bury their children


How I want to love you again

truly live and let live

I want to hear you moan & scream

you’ve never had it so good

I want joy to go over the top

& weep the promise fulfilled

I want you to get on top, chill into the moves

establish the orbit, hang on me

& yes I want you to wear a new flag


I want you to want us for who we can be

I want to suckle your strong

& exuberant breasts

I don’t want insurance

I want endless compassion

your unchewed desire

I want to kiss the nape of your neck

& hear you whisper,

“Health care for all.”

And when we trip into the rhythms of primal verse

and your vagina explodes with ambrosia

I want you to hold me close and say,

“The war’s over.”

And when you turn around and present

calypgian exquisiteness to me & I am grateful

& careful– we become the music

touching us in places returning

I want to inhale your entire clitoris

into my renegade wanton mouth

and put my nose in the cistern

of the grand unction of function

Smooching like a kissy-face pet

the innermost thigh your amber fields

of Demeter & Buddha

your majestic steel blue himals & spontaneous rivers

of highways on acid

your redwoods going to roost

In our escalating rhythm there’s

No craft to our liberated cradles – exonerated spines & glutes

No technique from training film

We are oscillating radiant bodies

whose minds are in the middle of those bodies

We are weightless golden birds soaring

our journey is our destination

our glory is the sound moving us

canceling Maya Samsara The Great Depression

as we breathe a world without attachment

a treasured perfectness of time

with no pain nor worry

Ancient rain transporting generations

into the morgasmic future

We feel not the hard ground, the agglutination

of the sands, the hearty bed and bass thumping


What we hear drives our flesh & blood

like mad locomotives

like fugitive Zephyrs out running

the dogs of days

Celestial gems of cellular dynasties

every being in the making of us

showering us with exuberant rebirths

showering us with our sanguine pasts

the gelding and spaying guilt & tribulations

the merciless travails & futile battles

interwoven with heroic irreproachable mitzvahs

of our common ancestors

The light is huge, closing eyes intensifies it

The light is clear, it has the power to move me

You who I love are now a vibration

O Inexhaustible Lambency

O Effulgent Holy Hole to the Whole Resplendent

I am surrendering to It

I am not I, I am It

We are humping pumping thumping

We are levitating ascending like an electric Christ

An explosion a firmament a volcanic fountain

of primal essence energy without matter

No body, no mind, no nothing

just pure electric nameless before time

come after time instant of no other

I am in all, it is beyond me, the come is coming

NO! NO! no no no no no no no

I will not come

I will not “release what has so long accumulated

within me”

I won’t laugh the laugh of glorious copulation

the cosmic ride– The One

I will not let you change me

into the man you want

Not till we receive honest pay for honest work

Not till the mass deception & omniscient corruptive

worship of wealth above all else are gone

something for history books of shame

Not till Langston Hughes approves from the grave



[Originally published in NHS 2007, http://www.poetspath.com/napalm/nhs07/Andy_Clausen.htm.]