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

 

 

MARC OLMSTED

 

 

Mutant Clinic

 

Don't say anything
about God you can't
say over a pit of
burning babies."
        —
Elie Wiesel
 
 
Back from retreat
  another temp
  job -
In a concrete bunker office
  like a ghost
         ringing
  phone lines I'm not
supposed to
     answer
- no windows -
     later to the
  Clinic w/ mutant
     babies
  crick in my neck
     hunchback

                *

The dwarf at the desk
      baby cries rising in
              the pain of the world -
      breathe in dark smoke of
               suffering
breath out white moonlight
         compassion -
wrathful crazy wisdom mantra
             in heart
leukemia poster on the wall
          hard not to weep for my dead sister
              this tiny building of
                       screams in the
                  vast trichilichosm of
              agony
                  Buddhas! Buddhas! Buddhas!
                         Please!

                *

Fog out the window
     twitching
the trees
  black ink
10 minutes before
  work 3rd day
Joyce the aspiring
young Chinese in
  at 11-3 hours
  by myself w/
  the demon phones

                *

The long walk
to work
  makes sagging
flesh firm
  arriving early
    sitting across
from the
   Dept. of
Orthopedic
  Surgery
Myth of Sisyphus to
   keep this rotting
         meat
   in shape -
Death's angel
   is a blanket
of fog over
   glass & lights
of the hospital

                *

4 pigeons on
the roof of McDonald's
  Burger -
homeless young
    men sprawl
on the sidewalk
  Monday dawn
  - I dodge
yuppies blazing
     their autos
through cross
       walks -
The janitors in
    the lobby
discuss John
Kennedy Jr.
  is he dead?
last night
Dan Rather
   newscaster
 wept as he
      spoke
   of it
   with his
Camelot 3000
      comic book
          hope

                *

    Black gardener
trims the hedges
    across the
     street with
  a chain saw -
Above his head
    the trees again
    look spooky,
       sickly
    in the gray
      dawn
Doom is a
   dream
            safe
  if
none to dream
  it -
just clear
   empty space
     writing in
   a notebook

                *

young J.
  11 y.o. male
  hemihypertrophy?
  (overgrowth
  of half a
  body part
    including face)
plays a video
       game with
  a small screen
    in his palm
    - strange
  electronic music
      & explosions
          - happier
than any
  movie star

                *

Bus electric
  trolley pole
  white metal
  passing
     window against
white fog
- my heart of
tears, hard job,
brain chemicals in
head anxious
     with stress
                 the
     white bus
   a sinister omen,
   a crime,
   a white sore

                *

Dr. K's in the
   office early
  bleached blonde
        wrath
she exacts her
   need from
  the temp slave (me)
     twisting for
juice
- I'm a coward
in her presence
   a skill she
has refined, aura
   of scalpels
         black
burning halo

                *

A mother reading
  GONE WITH
    THE WIND
 in the clinic
I never realized
    what that
     title meant
  "Are you the Dr.?"
      I look like
  a crazy hippie
doctor out of
 TV show E.R.
with suit
  long hair earring
clipboard
thinking:
   "You need a Dr. of
        the Soul."
what horror movie
  is that from
did Edward Van
     Sloan say it?

                *

    To have
Children:
Kerouac poet told
     Corso poet "You've
brought something
  into the world
     to die"
   L. had an
abortion that
     was mine
     Halloween 1979
my 20 year old ghost
   - such regret
I have no children
    & now too
        fearful
what neo-
     Nazi of the
  future?
       - alcoholic
    genes for sure
 - you just
       never know
  - a Down's
       syndrome kid
in neat white
   Calvin Klein
      sweatshirt
- that's a holy card
of Jesus'
   thorny heart -
  memory of my
   Catholic youth -
the broken heart
      of saints
is unavoidable

                *

The autistic
    boy
exploding psychic nova blow
     to the chest
  "No screaming"
   admonishes
Mom - she
   reads out loud
to keep him calm
    - a grating
story about
  a beaver -
I may scream
    for him -
Mom says:
 "Talk words.
  Look at me."

                *

How angry the
   father holding
      baby E.
  the mother pushing
        an empty stroller
    - how did this
    happen to me?
            (his sullen
             face says)
    This is all
       fucked up!
     Failure to Thrive
   developmental delay
     delayed myelination
       on MRI.   Revisit.

                *

the chemo
      vomit child
I don't even
           want to
write
The nurse says to him:
  "Hey buddy.
Having a hard time?"
    he puked in the
        waste basket
          tiny thing
         o my dead
         sister
O how will
   I die
  all my friends
and family in
   the grave
   "Look at the
   fog. Looks
   like a dream
or something"
  says another Dad
  maybe
  stoned -
Mom says
  "O be quiet"

                *

Do they scream
in Hell
  like a child's
        scream?
Probably

                *

Needles biopsies
   bone marrow
transplants
   the orchestra
     of pain

                *

    "Genetics.
  Marc speaking."
- Dr. C
was a victim
of the Unabomber
     blew off part
of his hand
   I guess the
Unabomber thought
  Doc was
  making the Boys
  from Brazil
4th Reich
  in fact these
 doctors only
help the mutant
       kids -
Big love that
       somehow
    went wrong
    in their
personal lives

                *

On the walk
   to work on
Haight St.
Dracula is
   up in a leather
coat talking
   to himself
- the rules of
sunlight no longer
    apply -
bad sign
   - on the
sidewalk Indian
  drunks sleep
    in the drizzle
   deep dead slumbers
     even breath
  unobservable
  - at the glass door
 to the lobby
   a young one-legged
           man on
      crutches
combs through
  the sand of
    the big outside
ashtray - he
    has found
   many good butts
& is singing
   - I am due
at the Mutant
Clinic in 35 min.

                *

     Posters in
the Clinic:

-STARTING FREE
GOOD AIR FOR ME
-START LOVING YOU
         BABY BEFORE
         IT'S BORN

I think of some
      posters
  for when I'm
      gone
and these faces
  have faded
  from my prayers
in spite of my best
      intentions

-REMEMBER ALL
      HEARTS
-THIS MOVIE WILL
      END
-IN YOUR BREATH
 IN YOUR MIND
  IN EVERYTHING
     YOU SEE:
BUDDHA IS HERE

 

 

 [Originally published in NHS 2000, http://www.poetspath.com/napalm/nhs98/olmsted.html.]