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
Apple, Adobe, Cisco, Immune Response, another guise
of the highly defined, watching
High Definition Television and the ticker simultaneously.
Japanese entertainment industry bondsmen
cluster around high screens on dark kiosks.
Columbian emerald mines, Chinese cucumbers, biotech chip implants,
Cell Genesys, Waste Management, HBO-MTV, Capital Cities oil glut,
fiber-optic telecom, Holographic-teleportation, T-cell receptor geometry.
Superconductive materials transcend the earth wave.
I’d call Ed Clark, buy Montana jade mines and sapphire bars.
I’ve already got my plans for the profits from the
first million carats:
1000 to Naropa –– 1000 to Karma Triyana Dharmachakra ––
1000 to Crestone retreat –– coffee shop in Las Vegas ––
Maybe one within pacific wave reach, carrier pigeon legion
all carrying Om Mani Padme Hum scrolls.
like a triple-gem Hollywood band of influence
like the bondsmen,
adhering in concentric rings emanating from the
one holy guru.
All else is charnel ground, a feast for crows.
So rejected salesmen wander through
halls of chrome elevators and moving stairs,
such pure goddesses of porcelain in the polished glass,
Romeo-Prometheus species moving in dark fabrics
through endless aisles and rows of wanting to get to know you,
to know your business and to make it my mask.
Take stock of the precious commodity of balance
here among skyscrapers and iron doors ––
thousands after thousands of doors opening & closing
like game pieces accumulating into millions of tons of cities,
our shares of the market in rock.
Skinheads march in Oregon, Idaho,
separatists stock weapons of erasure,
dead-brain arrogance, criminal hatred
as an investment in heartbreak ––
Sad, self-made victims cower and tremble
as vampirous mini-despots devour their world
like a virus, pollute the righteous, pure nature
they claim to defend; a total, non-discriminating nature,
exuding the antibody, antidote of seasons, time passing
in renewal as they march to the tune of anti-prayer,
hands held high to burning midnight.
Will the fool, this goddess’s child,
remember his weapon and tear through
the aorta of this iron body, slice the hangman’s noose,
rethrow the only vase for his one white rose?
Will the market remember to crash when
all hands are stirring the poison soup, when
Earth’s management takes the poison pill to
avoid the takeover of all things truly valuable?
[Originally published in NHS 2002, http://www.poetspath.com/napalm/nhs02/hirsch.html.]